The Girl Who Walked on Air (6 page)

The audience, all ten of them, stopped rustling their toffee papers. Kitty Quickblade’s act was about to start. She was done up to the nines in a silver tunic tied with ribbon, which I’d sewn in place backstage. As for
my
fine costume, it was still the dung-green clown suit. And as usual my hair was plaited tightly and tucked under my hat.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Mighty Ned boomed. ‘We bring you a chilling spectacle . . . A routine where one mistake could mean instant DEATH!’

The crowd gasped.

Ned was laying it on specially thick tonight. Perhaps he’d been told to; perhaps he was still in a sulk with me. Either way, my knees shook hard. If things went wrong tonight, I’d be for it. I’d wave goodbye to any dreams of being the showstopper. Or any notions of staying here at all.

As Kitty bowed to the crowds,  I did the same, flashing my best smile till I almost began to enjoy myself.

‘Get in place, weasel!’ Kitty hissed when she saw what I was doing. ‘And stop showing off!’

Reluctantly, I went over to the corkboard. It was round, the size of a table top. All I had to do was stand against it. Yet as Kitty faced me, my whole body started trembling. Her eyes were slits as she shifted the blade between her fingers. A cold sweat crept down my back. I tried to make myself still as a dead thing, all the while my brain screaming ‘Run for your life!’ Next time I’d ask for a blindfold.

Kitty raised her arm. Flicked her wrist just a fraction. The knife spun through the air. It whizzed past my left ear and went
thwunk
into the board behind me. I breathed again, though I’d barely drawn air when a second knife went
whoosh
past my right side. A ringing filled my ears. The blade, still quivering, tickled my cheek. Now I couldn’t move my head.

Zip
. Another knife skimmed my left elbow. Then the same on my right side. I twitched in alarm. Kitty took aim, tipped her hand. A glint of steel, then
thwack
thud
as the final knives hit the board either side of my legs. The spectators clapped half-heartedly.

Kitty turned to the crowd. Mighty Ned started speaking. I supposed this was my cue to move but I couldn’t. The knives snagged my sleeves and trouser legs, leaving me pinned like a butterfly in a glass case. I tried wriggling my arms, then . . .

Thwack thud.

My heart stopped. Directly above my head a new knife stuck out of the board. I glared at Kitty, who gave me a nasty little wink. This time the audience clapped with gusto. Kitty bowed to the crowd. Then she turned and tried to tell me something with her eyes.

‘What?’ I mouthed.

She nodded furiously. A snigger went through the audience. She ‘shooed’ with her hands at the board behind me. Then I realised: she wanted her knives back.

My entire outline was marked out by daggers. A couple of sharp yanks freed my arms. Reaching up, I grabbed the other knives. Most came out easy enough, though my trouser leg tore. But the finaI blade had caught in my hair. Across the ring, Kitty eyed me coldly. People began talking and shifting in their seats. Try as I might, the knife wouldn’t budge.

Screwing up my eyes, I jerked forwards. The pain was fierce, the ripping sound even worse. Then I was free. A great hunk of hair hung from the knife. The crowd cheered and clapped like mad things. It beat the sound of being scalped alive any day of the week.

Clearly Kitty didn’t think so. Crossing the ring, she looked ready to thrash me. ‘Get that last knife out! Quickly!’

She tried distracting the crowd but by now they were cheering for a different kind of act.

‘Swap over, why don’t you?’ A man shouted out. ‘Let the red-haired lassie do the throwing, and the dark one take the brunt.’

‘Too right!’ yelled someone else. ‘Poor girl. It ain’t fair she gets to risk life and limb. I’d rather it was t’other way round.’

More laughing and jeering. I didn’t dare look at Kitty. And that stupid knife of hers still wouldn’t come free. Bracing myself, I heaved and heaved. But the damned thing stayed bedded up to its hilt.

Her face appeared right next to mine. ‘You’re useless, weasel.’

I despised her more than ever. Gripping the knife one last time, I imagined it was her neck. At last, with a kissing sound, it slid free.

Kitty wrenched it from my hand. As she did so her eyes went wide in surprise. The crowd gave an enormous jeer, as she spun round, arms flailing. A small white dog was swinging from her tunic.

‘Get him off me!’ she screamed.

Where Pip had come from, I didn’t know. He certainly wasn’t part of the act.

Now he wriggled and thrashed like a fish on a hook. He wouldn’t let go. I knew I should stop him, but I couldn’t quite move.

‘Get him off me!’ Twisting round, Kitty tried to grab Pip. I got to him first. His little body was all tight and bristling. I wasn’t sure I could hold him.

Then Mighty Ned’s voice filled the tent. ‘John Robinson, please come to the exit.’

It was the name no artist wanted to hear. It meant the act had gone so far wrong it had to be halted. The band struck up a tune, the lights brightened. Kitty stormed out of the ring, her tunic in tatters. Pip and me followed at a distance. The very thing I’d feared had happened; now I felt sick with dread.

Backstage, Ned gripped my shoulders and peered into my face. ‘What’s got into you, Louie?’

‘I . . . I . . . I don’t know.’ I was too embarrassed to meet his eye.

‘Well, you’ve run out of chances,’ he said, as if this was news to me.

The clowns and Rosa looked on awkwardly. There was no sign of Gabriel, which was a small relief. But still I wanted to curl up and hide. For my shame was their shame; one bad performance affected us all.

‘You were stealing the show with all that smiling and bowing,’ Ned said.

I shrugged. I’d enjoyed the crowd, they'd enjoyed me. Yet that was now a crime too, apparently.

‘And getting Pip to attack Kitty? That’s a low blow, Louie.’

‘I didn’t make him do it!’

Ned gave me an ‘I don’t believe you’ look. Tears sprang in my eyes. Why the heck was Ned siding with Kitty all of a sudden? I buried my face in Pip’s fur. There didn’t seem much left to say.

‘I’m going to put some proper clothes on,’ I said.

Once I’d changed out of the clown suit I thought I’d feel better. But even in my own frock with my hair loose again I still felt awful. Ned was right. And so was Kitty. I’d done myself no favours tonight.

Just as I was about to slope off, the backstage curtains flew open. Mr Chipchase came marching towards me.

‘What the devil!’ he bellowed. ‘Do you mean to ruin this circus, once and for all?’

Kitty was right behind him.

I shuddered. Mr Chipchase had given me another chance and I’d thrown it away. There was nothing I could say. I turned and made for the side of the tent. Pip raced ahead of me.

‘COME HERE THIS INSTANT!’ Mr Chipchase yelled.

I didn’t look back. Ducking under the canvas, I ran out into the night.

Halfway across the showground I slowed to a jog, unsure what I was doing or where I was going. I couldn’t go home. It’d be the first place they’d look for me. And Jasper had to be spared.

Pulling Pip to me, I hid behind the nearest tent. My heartbeat began to slow.

Then came footsteps.

Shadows fell across the grass. I held my breath and put a hand over Pip’s muzzle to stop him barking. Two figures approached. One was tallish, wearing a ringmaster’s hat. The other was squat like a toad.

‘I’ve let this go on too long,’ Mr Chipchase said.

‘But Louie’s marvellous,’ said Ned. ‘If you saw her, you might change your mind.’

‘That girl’s had every sort of chance!’

‘Not this chance, sir. And what with Gabriel Swift not being quite so special with his tricks . . .’ Ned stopped, letting it hang in the air.

Mr Chipchase didn’t reply. But I groaned silently, begging Ned to shut up.

‘See, sir,’ said Ned, ‘I’ve a notion someone is after Gabriel, someone who wants to find him quite badly. This man has a carriage, and money by the look of him. It won’t be long before he tracks us down.’

I cussed under my breath. Trust Ned to stick his nose in. All this talk about a man in a carriage was just gossip. It had a touch of sour grapes about it too. It wasn’t fair to take things out on Gabriel. Ned was just stirring up trouble.

‘Is that so?’ said Mr Chipchase.

‘If Gabriel goes, you’ll need a showstopper again, won’t you, sir?’

‘Yes,’ said Mr Chipchase. ‘And it won’t be Louie, mark my words.’

The shadows moved on.

It was too much to take in. I took a belly-deep gulp of air and, bit by bit, my mind cleared. So it was final. No showstopper chances for me. Ever. Sorry though I was for Gabriel, I felt sorrier for myself. My own mother hadn’t wanted me. And now the circus didn’t want me either.

It was time to leave.

My first thought was Jasper. He’d insist on coming with me, which was the very worst idea. He could hardly stand upright, let alone do a day’s work out in the big wide world. Staying here, he had a home at least. It was all anyone could hope for right now.

I decided to go quickly. Tonight, and not tell anyone. It was best that way. There’d be no goodbyes, no lingering glances. I’d not even take Pip. He’d be better off here with food and a warm bed, and Jasper, who’d need the company.

Dear Pip.

Oh heck.
My chin trembled.
Could I do it? Could I leave all this behind?

I looked down at my dog. ‘Go home, little man.’

He cocked his head at me but didn’t shift from my side.

‘Go home, Pip! Find Jasper!’ I pointed in the direction of our wagon.

He licked his lips but still wouldn’t budge.

‘Just go, you rotten dog! Go!’ I cried.

Pip’s ears went down. He looked up at me with huge wet eyes, then slid off into the darkness. I started to sob uncontrollably. My mam, I’d bet, was made of tougher stuff. She’d left me without a backwards glance.

Hiding here wouldn’t solve things. Before I’d moved a step, the tent opened and a figure appeared.

‘Why don’t you come in?’

The voice was velvet deep. It belonged to Miss Lilly.

I swear my own feet defied me, and before I knew it, I was inside her tent. On an old chest in the corner a lamp burned low. There was just enough light to see Miss Lilly. She wore her usual loose-fitting white dress. Her hair stood out wild from her head.

‘I should go,’ I said, wiping away my tears. ‘Mr Chipchase is after me.’

Her face was in shadow. Prickles ran up and down my neck.

‘Sit,’ she said.

Bracelets tinkled down her arm as she waved to her left. I sank into a seat full of cushions.

Miss Lilly scooped back her hair. Twisting it in a knot against her neck, she then lit more lamps. Except these weren’t normal lamps; these were fancy things made of coloured glass that glittered reds and blues and purples, making the room seem strewn with jewels. There were scarves hanging from the roof and more cushions scattered about the floor. The air smelled sweet, like spices, as though I’d walked into a scene from the Arabian Nights itself. Slowly, gently, I began to relax.

Miss Lilly slid into the seat opposite. A small table stood between us; underneath it her knees bumped against mine. I jerked back in my seat.

‘I won’t hurt you, child,’ she said. ‘No more than you’re hurting yourself.’

I frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Your life is difficult. You face choices – about your past and your future.’

My fingers clenched and unclenched. I didn’t want to talk. This was best left inside my head. Looking up, I met Miss Lilly’s gaze. Her eyes were so dark there was no telling their colour. I didn’t want this strangeness. It belonged in Miss Lilly’s world. All I wanted was to live with Jasper and Pip, and be part of the circus. Now it seemed even that was too much to ask for.

‘Perhaps the cards hold the answers to your problems,’ she said.

‘No, ta,’ I said, shifting uneasily. ‘Not a reading. Not tonight.’

But Miss Lilly had already placed a cloth-wrapped bundle on the table. She shook out her hands as if she’d just washed them. Ever so slowly, she peeled back the cloth. I watched, nervously at first, then I felt myself being drawn in.

Beneath the cloth was Miss Lilly’s tarot deck. Face down they looked like normal cards, curled at the corners and with a dark swirly pattern on their backs.

‘Take them,’ Miss Lilly instructed.

I wiped my hands on my skirts, for my palms were sweating. As I picked up the cards, a tingling spread up my arm.

‘Ask them what you want to know.’

I drew a breath to speak but Miss Lilly cut in. ‘Don’t say it out loud. Say it in your head.’

So I did.

I handed the cards back to her. She shut her eyes and her lips moved silently. When she opened her eyes again, they were pools of black. She dealt the cards quickly, laying one on top of another in the centre of the table. Around them, she placed four more. Then down the right-hand side, she laid out a final four cards. These were all face down. The others were face up.

‘Are you ready?’ she said.

I swallowed. ‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’

Miss Lilly reached for the centre card and held it towards me. The picture was of a man with a knapsack, stepping off a cliff top.

‘The fool,’ she said.

‘Huh,’ I slouched back in my seat. ‘Might’ve guessed
that
one. Louie Reynolds: the great big idiot.’

‘That’s not what it means,’ said Miss Lilly.

‘Oh?’

‘It means you are young and naïve, but that adventure awaits you.’

I sat forward.

‘But,’ Miss Lilly raised her finger in warning, ‘you must choose the right path.’

Easier said than done
. I sat back again.

The next card lay at right angles to the first. Miss Lilly peered at it. Her mouth twitched.

‘It’s bad, ain’t it?’ I said.

‘This card is your obstacle.’ She showed me. On it was a dark shape with leering eyes, standing over a woman. ‘The devil.’

I shivered. ‘Which means evil, surely?’

‘In a way. It means you’re miserable, and you’re suffering.’

My heart filled up with Jasper and Pip, and how I wanted to be a showstopper so much it hurt. ‘Yes.’ I bit back tears. ‘That does fit well.’

The next card was at Miss Lilly’s twelve o’clock. Her gaze swept over it, then she turned it so I could see too. ‘Your goal,’ she said. ‘The wheel of fortune.’

The card showed a yellow cartwheel spinning towards a cliff edge.
Cliffs again.
It was a good job I wasn’t scared of heights.

‘This is your destiny card. Your fortune.’

I laughed hotly. ‘
My
fortune?
My
luck? It’s bleeding lousy. I don’t need a card to tell me that.’

I got up.

‘No,’ she said, pulling me down again. ‘You must see all the cards, otherwise your reading is incomplete.’

I tried to shrug her off. ‘I have to get going, Miss Lilly. I’ve been here long enough.’

But she held me firm. ‘Stay,’ she said.

So I stayed, fidgeting nervously in my seat. It was flimflam really, this tarot lark. And any time now Mr Chipchase would find me here.

Miss Lilly took another card. Turning it over, her face suddenly darkened.

‘The tower.’

The way she said it made me more uneasy.

‘Your past,’ she said, and pushed the card towards me.

But I couldn’t seem to look at it, gazing instead at Miss Lilly and wondering why her eyes shone with tears.

‘You must look,’ she said gently. ‘You must face your past.’

My heart began to pound.

My past.

Two words that made me clench up inside. That made me hurt for the mother who hadn’t wanted me. Who’d left me at the circus and had never come back.

Miss Lilly tapped the card with her finger. In my head, I counted to three, then I looked down. It was a picture of a tower crumbling to pieces as lightning hit it. In among the flying bricks a body tumbled to the ground.

I felt suddenly strange. My head filled up with a whirling, rushing noise. I grabbed the table to steady myself.

‘Gently now, Louie,’ said Miss Lilly. ‘You’ve had a reaction to the card, that’s all.’

‘Please,’ I said. ‘I have to go.’

‘But we must finish your tarot reading. We will look to the future and find out what’s to become of you, my dear.’

She reached for a card. Then stopped. Outside the tent came a rustling sound – boots striding through grass. Her eyes locked with mine.

Someone was out there.

A shadow,
two shadows
, loomed across the canvas. I leaped to my feet. Too fast, too quick, for I almost lifted the table clean off the floor.

‘Your cards!’ Miss Lilly cried as they slid into her lap.

One card fell to the floor. It lay there, picture side up. I dearly wished I’d not seen it. My blood turned cold.

‘That’s my future, is it?’

Miss Lilly hesitated.

‘
Is it?
’

‘Yes,’ she said.

The picture was of a skeleton, the word ‘DEATH’ in big letters above it. Then two voices came from outside the tent.

First was Kitty: ‘She’s in there. I can hear her.’

Then Mr Chipchase: ‘Leave this to me.’

Miss Lilly was trying to tell me something. She pointed to the DEATH card on the floor and held up another with stars on it. I wasn’t listening. I had to get out of here. But how? The walls of the tent all looked the same.

‘Where’s the door?’ I hissed.

Miss Lilly pointed right at the spot where the shadows stood. I was cornered. There was nowhere to run.

The tent flew open. Two figures barged in, their lanterns blinding me.

‘Stay where you are!’ said Mr Chipchase.

Not likely.

I dodged him, ploughing straight into Kitty. Her hands snatched my hair and my head jerked back. I kicked out like a horse, landing a cracking blow on her shin.

‘You little bleeder!’ She let go of me as if I was poker-hot.

I ran for the showground gates.