Father Unknown (12 page)

Holidaymakers fascinated Ellen. Their different accents, the way they acted with their children, was like a glimpse into another world. She and Josie had never been taken to a beach for the day. If they went down to the little cove, it was always alone – the most their mother did was give them dire warnings of the dangers of going in too deep. They had taught themselves to swim, just as they’d learned to ride bikes, do leap-frog and hand-stands or climb rocks, by trying together on their own. A picnic to them was nothing more than an apple and Ellen couldn’t possibly imagine Mum and Dad sitting on the sand doling out cups of tea from a Thermos, or paddling with them and making sandcastles the way these parents did.

But it was the places these people came from that intrigued her more than anything else. As she’d never been further than Truro, big cities like London, Bristol and Birmingham were a mystery. She thought they must be very dirty, noisy and full of mean people because the tourists were always remarking on the Cornish clean air, the pretty countryside, and how friendly people were down here.

Ellen grabbed any opportunity to talk to the holiday-makers. She told them about places of interest to visit and often sympathized when they complained about the guesthouses or camping sites they were staying at.

She would have liked to talk to girls and boys of her own age, and get their views on city life, but she was wary of them. When they were in groups they often mimicked her Cornish accent; they seemed to think she was simple because she couldn’t tell them about dance-halls or pubs.

She lived too far out of Falmouth to know what went on there at night, and so did most of her friends from school. She knew of course that there were Saturday night dances in village halls all over Cornwall, but she suspected that sophisticated teenagers wouldn’t want to go to one of those.

Maybe it was only because she was lonely without Josie that she started wishing she had a boyfriend. Her experience in that direction didn’t go beyond a couple of kisses on the school bus last Christmas, and they were boys she’d grown up with. She thought it would be nice to have someone special of her own.

This summer might have been so different if Josie had been here with her, she thought. Together they could have laughed off the girls who mimicked them and might even have given each other enough confidence to chat and flirt with the boys.

At four that afternoon it was quiet, and Ellen was daydreaming as she washed up and cleaned the counter in readiness for the kiosk owner arriving at half past to close it down. She didn’t notice anyone approaching.

‘Hello, gorgeous!’ a male voice said suddenly, making her jump.

Ellen blushed furiously, for the man was extraordinarily handsome. He was about twenty-five, tall with blond hair and azure blue eyes, and wearing nothing more than a skimpy pair of black swimming trunks.

‘What would you like?’ she asked nervously.

‘A kiss would be nice,’ he said, his wide grin showing perfect white teeth. ‘But I suppose they aren’t on the menu?’

Ellen giggled, but quickly managed to act as if men said that sort of thing to her all the time. ‘There’s tea, sandwiches, ice-cream and chocolate, but no kisses,’ she replied airily.

He made a glum face. ‘Shame. Well, suppose you tell me where you were just now?’

She coloured up again in confusion. ‘Just now? I haven’t been anywhere.’

‘You have, I’ve been watching you for a while,’ he said, leaning his muscular forearms on the counter and looking right into her eyes. ‘You were lost in thought.’

Ellen could hardly believe that any man could be interested enough to study her, yet alone someone as gorgeous as he was. ‘Oh, I was just thinking about my sister,’ she giggled. ‘She’s away in Helston and I miss her.’

‘Is she as pretty as you?’ he asked.

Ellen gulped. He was very deeply tanned and she’d never seen such muscles on any man before, except in films. She wished more than ever that Josie was here, she would have been so impressed by him.

‘We’re very alike,’ she said bashfully. ‘Lots of people can’t tell us apart.’

‘Twins?’

Ellen shook her head. ‘She’s two years younger than me.’

‘Can you both dance, do gymnastics or ride horses?’ he asked.

It was such an odd question that Ellen forgot her nerves. ‘Why on earth would you want to know that?’

‘Because if you could, you could have a future in the circus. Two of you very much alike in spangled costumes would be a great draw.’

‘I can ride horses, I live on a farm,’ she giggled. ‘I can do a hand-stand, cartwheels and the Twist. I also make a good cup of tea.’

‘Then I’ll have one,’ he said. ‘I’l1 audition you for the cartwheels later.’

As she poured him a cup of tea, she suddenly remembered the circus had set up just outside Falmouth. ‘Are you with the circus?’ she asked.

He grinned, showing his perfect teeth. ‘Indeed I am,’ he said. ‘Watch this!’

To her surprise he took a couple of steps away from the kiosk and then, seemingly completely effortlessly, he leapt into the air, turned a back somersault and landed on his feet. Ellen’s mouth fell open in shock, and several people who happened to be close by also looked amazed.

He came back to her, not even out of breath, and held out his hand. ‘Pierre, one of the Flying Adolphus Brothers,’ he said.

‘You’re French,’ she said incredulously, taking his hand to shake it. She thought his accent was from the north of England.

He winked at her. ‘No more French than my partners are my brothers, but for our public we put on a little show.’ He raised her hand to his lips. ‘
Tu es très jolie, madame,
may I know your name?’

‘Ellen,’ she said, and as he kissed her fingertips tingles ran down her spine. ‘But I don’t think I can run away to the circus, I’m only used to riding old nags, and my gymnastics aren’t up to yours.’

‘I could train you,’ he said, still holding her hand and looking into her eyes. ‘I can see you now under the spotlight as you turn the rope for me to climb up to my trapeze, emerald-green spangles, little silver stars in your hair, you would be a sensation.’

Ellen knew this was a joke, but a little part of her wanted to believe it. She had only been to the circus once, on an outing with the Sunday school when she was ten, and she’d never seen anything so wonderful. For weeks afterwards, she and Josie had played circuses. They would put on their swimming costumes, and holding a length of old curtain net as a kind of stole, they would strut around the barn pretending they were trapeze artists.

‘There’s your tea,’ she said to hide her confusion, pushing the mug at him. ‘No circus for me, I’ve got two more years of school yet and then on to college or university. This is just a holiday job.’

‘So you have brains along with great beauty,’ he said, and his smile was very warm. ‘Come and see the circus tonight anyway. I’ll give you a free ticket and after the show I’ll take you to meet all the acts and see the animals.’

Ellen was astounded. She didn’t know if he was asking her for a date, or it was just a free ticket to the show. But whatever his motives, she wanted to go.

‘Well?’ he said, raising one fair eyebrow questioningly. ‘Do you want to come?’

Just one look at his handsome face, his high cheek-bones and wide smiling mouth and she knew she would go willingly to anything as long as it meant seeing him. Yet she knew her father wouldn’t approve one little bit.

‘I don’t know,’ she faltered, thinking rapidly. Her father didn’t have to know, and anyway he’d told her himself to go out tonight. ‘You see, I have to get the last bus home and that leaves Falmouth at half past ten,’ she said. ‘What time does the show end?’

‘In plenty of time to catch the bus,’ he said, and reached out and patted her cheek. ‘I’m going for a last swim now, it’s part of my training. But I’ll leave a ticket at the ticket office for you. Just say Pierre said there would be one for you.’

He was gone, striding off down the beach before she could even remind him he hadn’t paid for his tea.

Breathless with excitement and nerves, Ellen rushed into the little dress shop in Falmouth minutes before they were due to close, intent on buying the cream dress she’d tried on earlier in the week. Luckily it was still there, and she snatched it up and paid for it, then, running down the high street through the throngs of holidaymakers, she made for Dolcis, which stayed open till half past five, to buy shoes.

There were posters advertising the circus everywhere, and it gave her a thrill to see the Adolphus Brothers pictured on it, flying through the air, while tigers and lions snarled at the ringmaster in a cage below. The evening performance didn’t begin until seven-thirty, so once she’d got some shoes she would have plenty of time.

The ladies’ room in the Harbourside Café wasn’t very well lit, but it had about the only lavatory she knew that had clean towels and hot water, and few people seemed to use it. She stripped off to her bra and pants and before anyone could come in she washed herself quickly, including her feet, then put on her new dress.

If it hadn’t been for Pierre she wouldn’t have spent her wages on something so impractical. But once she had it on she didn’t care about whether she could run or ride a bike in it, or if it had to be washed after every wearing, it was just so lovely. The colour set off her tan, its close cut enhanced her slender figure, and she felt she was an equal to any big-city girl.

By the time she’d brushed out her hair and put on some lipstick, mascara and her new brown sling-backs with pointed toes, she was a completely different girl to the one who’d left the farm at nine o’clock that morning wearing a black shapeless skirt, white blouse and gym shoes, with her hair pulled severely off her face in a pony-tail.

Ellen sighed as she looked at her hair; it was too wild and curly, like something out of a Forties Hollywood film. The fashion was for short, sleek styles at the moment, but even if she had it cut, it still wouldn’t behave, so she supposed she was stuck with it. She bundled her old clothes and gym shoes into the shop bag and marched out through the café, avoiding the customers’ curious glances.

It was only as Ellen queued at the ticket office that she felt frightened. She would look so silly if Pierre hadn’t left a ticket. What would she do? Pay to see the show anyway? What if that made him think she was chasing him?

But the ticket was there; in fact he’d attached a note to it. ‘I’ll be looking right at you, every smile will be for you alone,’ he’d written.

The tingles down her spine began again and combined with the jostling, excited crowd around her, the smell of the animals and the jangling music from a fairground organ, to make her feel quite faint. She couldn’t really believe she was daring enough to do this.

Her seat was right at the ringside, a proper plush-covered seat, not like the uncomfortable tiered planks most people had to watch from. There was a souvenir programme too, and among the many pictures of the acts was one of Pierre with his brothers looking wonderful in tight-fitting sky-blue sparkly outfits. She looked around the Big Top nervously, hoping no one she knew was there. She fully intended to tell her father she’d been to the circus, but she couldn’t say she went alone. Again she cursed her conspicuous hair and remembered how often in the past it had been her undoing when she’d got up to mischief. But she couldn’t see anyone she knew, and the seats were filling up quickly all around her. Then at last the band started to play, and a troupe of acrobats came tumbling into the ring.

Every emotion Ellen had felt as a child seeing her first circus was trebled this time, for now she knew it wasn’t just magic that made people able to walk on wires or make big cats jump on to stools, but years of practice. She forgot she was alone, laughed at the clowns, cried at the beauty of the prancing white horses, and cheered with everyone else when the seals balanced balls on their noses.

Then at last the Flying Adolphus Brothers came running into the ring. They all looked so young and handsome in their blue outfits, with short spangly capes around their shoulders, yet Pierre looked the best. To her delight he came straight over to her and bowed low in front of her, before turning a row of cartwheels around the ring.

She watched in awe as he and the other five men tossed off their capes and climbed up ropes to the trapezes. There was a safety net, but it didn’t look very strong, and her heart was in her mouth. Up and up they went, right up to the roof of the Big Top, and then one after another they began swinging on the trapeze. It became more terrifying when three of them, Pierre included, hung by their knees and caught their partners by the hands. Then it was his turn to swing and jump and be caught by someone else.

Ellen could hardly bear to watch. Her heart was pounding with fright and yet tears came to her eyes because it was all so beautiful, like a ballet in the air. Each time Pierre was left standing alone on his trapeze he blew her a kiss, and the tingles came back to her spine.

It was almost a relief when the finale came; four of the men gradually made themselves into a human chain, each holding another man’s feet. They swung lower and lower until at last the first man dropped into the net, did a somersault and landed safely back in the ring, quickly followed by each of the others. But Pierre and his partner were still up there, and all at once instead of coming down, they were flying through the air again, this time doing double somersaults before catching the opposite trapeze. The crowd cheered, many people standing up and stamping and clapping their approval.

Finally the men came down and picked up their capes, and all six strutted around the ring blowing kisses at the audience. Once again Pierre stopped in front of Ellen and bowed low, then he threw her his cape.

‘Is he your boyfriend?’ the woman next to her whispered.

‘Just a friend,’ Ellen whispered back, clutching the cape like a lifesaver.

‘You lucky girl,’ the woman replied. ‘He looks like a god.’

It occurred to Ellen as the Grand Finale began and the horses and elephants circled the ring with all the different artists and clowns either riding or marching alongside the animals, that when Pierre threw his cape to her, he knew she would have to stay behind to give it back to him. But by now she was swept away into a fantasy world. Let Sally Trevoise go out with a spotty-faced boy from a shoe shop, she was going to have a date with the blond god riding on an elephant.