A Place Called Home (25 page)

‘All I see is bankruptcy looming.' Hester snatched up the remains of the cake and placed it in the larder.

The lodgers moved in and the children took instantly to Cyril, who was not much older than Bertie, and soon the pair of them were firm friends. Leonard and Gilbert worked long hours, spending much of their free time in their respective rooms. They ate dinner with the family and earned Hester's approval by complimenting her on her cooking. Leonard made curtains for the dining room and brought home off-cuts of gentlemen's suiting, fashioning them into waistcoats for Bertie and Cyril. Not to be outdone, Cyril took out the night soil each morning, swept the back yard and hefted buckets of water into the house. Indoor plumbing was a luxury that Lucy could not afford, and bath night involved the lengthy and back-breaking task of fetching water from the pump, heating it in pans on the range, and tipping it into the zinc tub which was placed in front of the fire. The youngest children were first, followed by the women. Bertie decided that he was now a man and opted to accompany Cyril to Nevill's public baths in Aldgate, where Leonard and Gilbert also did their ablutions.

The rent money from the lodgers was a great help, but the roof still leaked when it rained, and although the main rooms were made habitable there was still much that needed doing. Lucy was torn between the desire to find work, which would boost their meagre income, and the desperate need to find her grandmother or at least to discover her fate. It was almost impossible to know where to start her search, and Pearl had nothing to add. It seemed that Eva Pocket had vanished into thin air, leaving not a trace.

One May morning, Lucy rose early and went to market to purchase the best of the day's produce at the cheapest price possible. She arrived back at the house at the same time as the postman, and he handed her an envelope. ‘Fine morning, miss.' He tipped his cap, mounted his bicycle and pedalled off at considerable speed.

She unlocked the door and let herself into the house, almost bumping into Leonard, who had a slice of toast in one hand and his battered bowler hat in the other. He smiled and nodded, swallowing a mouthful of breakfast and mumbling a greeting. Lucy stood aside to let him pass, but before she could close the door the pounding of footsteps on the stairs alerted her to the fact that, as usual, Cyril was late for work. He shot past her, grinning and tipping his cap, and was followed by Leonard moving at a much more sedate pace.

‘Good morning, Miss Pocket. It's a lovely day.' He doffed his hat.

‘Yes, indeed it is, Mr Rossman.' She closed the door after him, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Bertie had just finished his breakfast and was scraping the last of the porridge from his bowl, receiving a frown from Hester, who was toasting a slice of bread in front of the fire. ‘You'll take the pattern from the plate if you keep that up, young man.'

‘It's too good to leave any,' Bertie said, unabashed.

Hester glanced at Lucy. ‘You're up and about early.'

‘It's such a lovely morning I thought I'd go to market first thing.' She put the basket on the table. ‘Hurry up, Bertie. You'll be late for work.'

He licked his spoon and replaced it with a clatter. ‘I'm off.' He leapt to his feet and snatched up his cap from its peg, ramming it on his head. ‘Old man Mould is a stickler for punctuality and a blooming slave driver. I'd be better off in the army, like Bram.'

‘You're too young to even think about it,' Lucy said severely, but noting his crestfallen expression she moderated her tone. ‘And we rely on you, Bertie, dear. What would we do without the man of the house?'

He gave her a suspicious look. ‘You've got Cyril and the old men. You don't need me.'

She wrapped her arms around him. ‘Of course we do. You're family, Bertie. The others are commercial gentlemen who pay for their lodgings. They help us to settle the bills, but you're still my best boy.' She kissed him on the cheek before giving him a gentle push towards the door. ‘Now go, before you get into trouble with your boss.'

He backed out of the kitchen, blowing her a kiss.

‘You spoil him,' Hester said, fanning the toast to extinguish the flames as it caught light. ‘A spell in the army would do him good. We don't want him growing up like his father.'

Lucy was horrified. ‘He's nothing like Linus. He's a good, kind boy and he takes after his mother.'

‘You're right, of course.' Hester scraped the burnt bits off the bread. ‘But he's easily influenced. Who knows what trouble he'll get into with that young Cyril?'

‘Don't say things like that.' Lucy picked up the envelope and studied it. ‘My goodness. It's for me. I quite thought it must be for Leonard or Gilbert.' She shot a sideways glance at Hester, smiling. ‘Don't look so worried. I try to keep it formal when I address them personally, but we all live under the same roof.'

Hester scraped butter onto her toast and took a bite. ‘In my opinion men have to be kept in their place or they get out of hand. Linus is a good example. If Meg hadn't been such a sweet-natured creature she would never have allowed him to take advantage of her.'

‘Most men aren't like that. Linus is the meanest, most despicable person I've ever met.' Lucy opened the envelope and took out a single sheet of paper. ‘It's a poster.' She held it up. ‘Charter's circus. That's where Froniga was headed.'

‘Why would she send you such a thing?' Hester squinted short-sightedly at the large print. ‘I think I need spectacles.'

‘It says that they're performing in a village near Chelmsford.' The print danced before Lucy's eyes and she could almost feel the Romany woman's presence. ‘It's a message from her, that's what it is. She knows something, Hester. She wants me to go to her.'

‘Stuff and nonsense. She's playing games with you.'

‘No. She wouldn't do that. I trust her.' Lucy looked round as the door opened and Pearl breezed into the room. ‘I've had a message from Froniga. Look.' She thrust the poster under her nose.

‘It's just a flier for a circus, love. Nothing more.'

‘That's what I think.' Hester nodded vigorously. ‘I'm going to get those nippers out of bed and set them to work. Talk some sense into her, Pearl.' She stalked out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.

‘I have to go,' Lucy said eagerly. ‘Can't you see that she's trying to tell me something?'

Pearl went to the table and picked up the teapot. She hesitated, gazing at Lucy and shaking her head. ‘Not really. I know she led you to me, but that doesn't mean she can find someone who's been missing for a long time. Eva could be in Timbuktu for all we know.'

Lucy giggled. ‘I don't think so, but I have to do this. I don't care what Hester says, I'm going to see Froniga and hear what she has to say. It might be my only chance to find Granny. I can't ignore this, Pearl. You must see that.'

Pearl filled a cup and added a dash of milk. ‘I understand, but I think you might be heading for a serious disappointment.'

‘Even so, it's something I must do. I know I can trust you and Hester to look after the children, and the lodgers.'

‘Of course you can.' Pearl fumbled in her pocket for her cigarettes. ‘We'll be fine, but don't stay away too long.'

Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I promise to come home as soon as possible, and hopefully I'll bring Granny with me.'

It was still light when the train pulled into Chelmsford station. Lucy was too excited to feel tired after the journey. She made enquiries at the ticket office and was told that she might catch the carter who had just collected supplies for the circus people, and was about to leave. She raced outside and managed to attract the driver's attention just as he was about to urge his old nag into action. He was unwilling at first, but when she offered him a silver florin he changed his mind and allowed her to climb up beside him. ‘I ain't a stage coach,' he grumbled. ‘But I suppose it won't hurt to oblige a young lady.'

She settled down at his side, holding onto her bonnet as the breeze tugged at the ribbons. The sun was plummeting towards the horizon, leaving bruise-like streaks of purple and crimson to mar the perfection of a duck-egg blue sky. The air was fresh and sweet-smelling, quite different to the fug and smoke of London. The stench of the factories, putrid river mud and overflowing sewers had been swapped for the scent of blossom on the May trees and the heady aroma of freshly tilled soil. From the vantage point of the driver's seat she could see over the top of the hedgerows. Neatly ploughed fields pierced by green spears of sprouting crops spread like a patchwork quilt, with stands of trees hazy with new growth.

As dusk fell it was the relative quiet of the countryside that struck her most forcibly. The only sounds were the clip-clop of the horse's hooves, the rumble of cartwheels and a chorus of birdsong. Used as she was to the hectic hustle and bustle of the crowded city streets, and the constant babel of voices, the deserted country lane was a world apart and it seemed to stretch into infinity. Her companion said nothing. He chewed tobacco, spitting a stream of brown juice onto the road at regular intervals.

Then, just as it was growing dark, Lucy saw the glow of naphtha flares against the indigo sky. ‘Is that the circus?' she asked excitedly.

‘What else would it be?'

She subsided into silence, craning her neck to catch sight of the first signs of habitation since they left the town. The fiery glow grew brighter and more intense as they drew closer, and silhouetted against the night sky she could see the dome of the big top. It was surrounded by booths, caravans and much smaller tents. The savoury smells of cooking over camp fires mingled with the fragrance of wood smoke, and suddenly the air was filled with sound. The carter drew his horse to a halt and climbed down to the ground, tossing the reins to a small child who had allowed his curiosity to get the better of him and had come out to investigate. A young woman appeared suddenly, gesticulating and shouting at the small boy, but her angry expression melted into a smile of welcome when she saw the carter. She looped her arm around his shoulders and led him away, leaving Lucy to alight unaided.

Clutching her small valise in her hand, she hitched up her skirts and clambered from the seat with as much dignity as she could muster. She turned to speak to the boy, and found herself surrounded by small people, the tallest of them no higher than her hip. They had emerged from the deep shadows, and in the flickering firelight it was almost impossible to tell whether they were welcoming her or whether they were a threat. Lucy looked round, searching for a friendly face. ‘Froniga,' she cried in desperation when no one spoke. ‘I've come to see Froniga.'

A ripple of conversation, no louder than the murmur of the wind in the trees, was cut short by the sudden appearance of a tall man dressed in a scarlet coat. He carried a horsewhip in his hand, but despite his outlandish appearance he was smiling. ‘You must be Lucy Pocket, the equestrienne we've heard so much about.'

Lucy stared at him aghast. ‘I – I think there's been a mistake, sir.'

‘You are modesty personified, Miss Pocket.' One of the dwarfs stepped forward. ‘Obadiah Starr.' He bowed from the waist. ‘Welcome to Charter's circus.'

‘That's my line, Obadiah.' The man in scarlet held out his hand. ‘It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Pocket. I am Montague Charter, owner and ringmaster of this grand circus.'

‘Don't let your pa hear you say that, Monty.' Obadiah grabbed the whip from him and cracked it above his head, receiving a round of applause from his troupe.

Monty snatched it back. ‘Only I am allowed to do that, as you well know, Obadiah.' He proffered his arm to Lucy, who was dumbstruck by the sudden turn of events. She thought she must be dreaming, but pinching the back of her hand hurt, confirming the fact that she was wide awake. There must be a logical explanation, but for the moment it eluded her. She slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and he led her through the gap between the caravans, accompanied by a burst of applause from the tiny onlookers. He came to a halt outside one of the tents. ‘Froniga, where are you? Hasn't your crystal ball informed you of your friend's arrival?'

Lucy stifled a sigh of relief. Obviously there was a misunderstanding, but Froniga would soon set this man straight. The tent flap parted and Froniga emerged, blinking sleepily. ‘Lucy? You've come.' She smiled and enveloped her in a warm embrace. ‘Come inside and rest. You must be tired after your journey.' She turned to Monty. ‘I'll look after her. She can share my accommodation until we've sorted something out for her.'

‘You must join us for supper. Father will want to meet our new star.' Monty clicked his heels together and raised his hand in a mock salute. ‘Half an hour, Froniga. Don't be late.' He walked off with a swagger in his step.

Froniga slipped her arm around Lucy's waist. ‘That young man is too big for his boots.' She lifted the flap and ushered Lucy into the tent. ‘This is my home while we're camped here.'

It was warm inside and the smell of crushed grass and damp canvas almost overpowered the scent of patchouli favoured by Froniga. Brightly coloured cushions were strewn on a palliasse and clothes spilled out of an open suitcase, covering what remained of the floor space. ‘What's going on?' Lucy demanded. ‘You couldn't have known for certain that I'd come in response to the poster you sent me.'

‘I've got second sight, haven't I? Anyway, I knew you'd do anything to find your grandmother.'

‘Even so, I don't understand why you told these people that I was looking for a job with the circus. Such a thing never crossed my mind.'

‘You need somewhere to stay, and this seemed the ideal solution. I didn't think you'd have enough money to pay for lodgings in the town.'