Hetty Feather (24 page)

'I
can't
go back! Oh, please, please let me stay
with you!'

'Dear child, I wouldn't be allowed to keep you.
Folk would say I had abducted you. They would
fear for your moral welfare here in the circus –
and rightly so. No, after the show I will accompany
you back to the hospital myself.' She looked at
a brass clock ticking on a shelf. 'I must start
getting ready now. Do you want to watch me one
more time?'

'Yes, of course!'

I thought she might send me out of the wagon
while she got ready, but she let me stay to watch
her transforming herself. She sat before her mirror,
placed the great red wig back on its stand, and tied
her own ruffled wisps back under a kerchief. Then
she applied greasepaint to her pale face, a thick
white, with bright pink on her cheeks. She put blue
on her lids and outlined her eyes with black kohl,
and then set her lips in a strange thin smile so she
could fill them in with carmine paint.

She went behind a screen, took off her dressing
gown and put on her pink spangled dress and white
tights. I heard her sighing and groaning as she
struggled into the tight costume and squeezed her
swollen feet into little pink ballet shoes. Then she
emerged self-consciously and carefully put the red
wig back on her head.

She stood before me, my Madame Adeline, ready
to pass muster in the circus ring, though now, close
up, I could still see the lines on her face under the
thick make-up, the sadness of her eyes beneath
her blue lids, the sag of her ageing body in the
unforgiving costume. I felt a fierce protective love
for her, as if she was truly my mother.

'You look beautiful, Madame Adeline,' I lied.

She gave me a kiss on the cheek and then went
to wipe the smudge of carmine away, but I protected
it with my hand, wanting to wear the marks of
my kiss with pride. She slipped her green dressing
gown round her shoulders and took me to the
entrance of the tent, open now, with people pouring
in to see the show.

'Make sure this child gets a good seat,' she said
to one of the circus hands. 'I will come and collect
her after the show to take her back home.'

She went off with one last wave to me. I sat in the
front, waiting tensely, while the audience chatted
and chewed food and started calling out impatiently
for the show to start.

Then Chino came capering into the ring, followed
by his clown friend, Beppo. Everyone laughed at
their foolish antics, but now that I knew Chino
was just a sad old man doing his job I could not
find him funny. I did not even enjoy it when he ran
rings round Elijah the elephant and performed the
clockwork-mouse trick. I could not marvel at Elijah
either as he wearily performed each plodding trick,
his skin sagging, his tiny eyes half blinded by the
bright flare of gaslight.

I watched the lady walking the tightrope, grown
very plump, though she was still as nimble dancing
up in the air. I saw the silver-suited tumbling boys,
three of them now, one as small as me. I wished
Gideon was with me to see them leap and cartwheel.
I saw the gentleman throwing daggers at the lady,
the seals clapping their flippers, the man eating fire.
It was as if they were all phantoms in a dream. I
had pictured them vividly so many times, glorifying
everything, so that now their real acts seemed a dull
disappointment.

'Now, ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys,
Tanglewood's Travelling Circus is proud to present
Madame Adeline and her rosin-backed performing
horses!'

I sat up straight, fists clenched, scarcely able to
bear the tension. Madame Adeline came cantering
in on a piebald pony, another following close
behind. The two horses stepped in time to the
music, sometimes hesitating and missing the beat.
They were old now, their manes yellow-grey, their
flanks sunken.

Madame Adeline stood up on the back of the lead
horse, straight and proud as ever, smiling with her
carmine lips. I watched her perform every trick,
leaping precariously from one horse to another,
swinging her legs, standing on her hands, jumping
through hoops – my heart in my mouth in case she
slipped.

'Hello, children,' she called. 'Who would like to
come and ride with me?'

She looked straight at me and beckoned. I had
to go to her. I felt foolishly conspicuous in my ugly
brown frock. Small though I was, I was clearly the
eldest child scrambling into the ring.

Madame Adeline smiled at me and helped me
up onto the first piebald horse, swinging herself
up after me. We trotted round the ring while
everyone clapped.

'Shall we perform properly for them, Hetty?'
Madame Adeline murmured into my hair.

'Yes, yes!'

Madame Adeline clucked and our horse gathered
speed, galloping round and round the ring while I
grabbed his mane and dug my knees in hard to keep
my balance.

'Your star turn now!' said Madame Adeline.
'Time to stand up.'

It was much harder now that I was taller
and Madame Adeline not so strong. I wobbled
precariously, trying desperately to keep my boots
connected with the horse's back. I could only
manage a split second before I collapsed back onto
the horse with a bump – though everyone still
clapped.

We slowed down and I scrambled off inelegantly,
terrified that folk would see I wore no drawers.
Madame Adeline held my hand and we took our bow
together.

'Well done, dear Hetty,' she whispered. 'Watch
the rest of the show and then I will come for you to
take you back.'

I smiled and nodded at her – but after she'd left
the ring I stood up and sidled my way along the row
to the end. I slipped out of the tent.

'Goodbye, dear Madame Adeline!' I whispered,
blowing a kiss in the direction of her wagon.

I could not return to the hospital and the terrible
punishment attic. I had run away for ever. I had to
fend for myself now.

I stepped out purposefully, though I had no idea
where in the world I was going. The fairground
smell of onions and fried potatoes made my mouth
water. I had no money – but I watched a finicky lady
nibble at a cone of fried potatoes, pull a face and toss
them to the ground. I darted forward and snatched
them up. I wolfed them down hurriedly. That was
supper taken care of.

It was starting to get dark, so now I needed a bed
for the night. I wandered past the noise and glare
of the fairground onto the wild heath. At first there
were still couples all around me, strolling through
the trees, rustling and giggling in the bushes, but
after five or ten minutes' walking I seemed to be all
alone. I knew the heath wasn't proper countryside,
but it had the same good fresh earthy smell.

I stared up at the stars and moon, marvelling in
spite of my desolation. I had not seen the night sky
properly since I was five. I held my arms up as if I was
trying to embrace the constellations. I remembered
Jem naming some of the stars for me, and my eyes
filled with tears. I knuckled them fiercely. I had
done enough crying for today. I had to be practical
and find a safe place to sleep.

In the dark I could not find a hollow tree to
turn into a squirrel house, so I found a large bush
instead. The ground felt dry and sandy underneath.
I crawled under the thick branches and curled up in
a ball, cradling my head with my hands.

'This is
better
than a squirrel house,' I told myself.
'This is a cosy little burrow, and if I shut my eyes I
shall picture it properly.'

I pictured a sweet bedchamber with a patchwork
quilt of buttercups and daisies and clover. It was
very similar to the illustration of the field-mouse's
burrow beneath the cornfield in my
Thumbelina
storybook. Oh, how I wished I had my precious gift
from Ida with me now. However, I'd read it so many
times I knew the story almost by heart. I repeated
it to myself – and by the time Thumbelina flew off
with her swallow I was fast asleep.

I woke with a start in the middle of the night,
cold and stiff and terrified. I could not make my
picturing work now. I felt utterly alone, like the last
child left on earth. I could not stop myself weeping
then. I went back to sleep wondering if I might not
even be better incarcerated in the punishment attic
of the hospital.

I felt more cheerful when I woke in the soft
summer daylight. I rolled out from under my bush,
stretched heartily and strolled about. I had no privy
but it was easy enough to squat behind a tree. Now
I needed a washroom. To my delight I found a series
of ponds, gleaming silver-grey in the early sunshine.
I had no idea how to swim, but I took off my boots
and stockings and dress and had a quick splash in
the shallows.

I had no towel to dry myself so I ran madly all
the way round the pond, and when I came back to
my clothes I was nearly dry. I smoothed the creases
from my dress as best I could, and polished the dust
from my boots with a clump of leaves. I let my hair
loose, combed it with my fingers, and then replaited
it as neatly as I could.

Now I needed breakfast! This was more of a
problem. I wandered around looking for nuts or
berries but I could not find any at all. Perhaps if I
found my way back to the fair I'd be able to forage
for thrown-away scraps? But I'd wandered so far
now I had no sense of direction. I simply walked
on,
not sure whether I was heading north or south, or
simply going round in circles.

I saw a blue wisp of smoke coming from a small
copse, and as I drew nearer I smelled a wonderful
savoury cooking smell. I crept closer and came upon
a group of dark gypsies in strange bright clothes
frying some kind of meat. I wondered if they might
share their meal with me. For a few seconds I even
had a fantasy of becoming a gypsy girl and travelling
in their caravan and selling clothes pegs and telling
fortunes, but their dog barked at me furiously and a
ragged child started hurling stones at me.

They were clearly not making me welcome so
I wandered on, hungrier than ever. I reached the
edge of the heath at last and walked out onto the
pavement, feeling strangely disorientated to be
back in the town so rapidly. I kept my eyes peeled
for dainty ladies throwing away half-eaten food, but
there were mostly gentlemen in the streets, walking
quickly, glancing at their watches, running to catch
omnibuses, obviously off to work.

I walked on and on, peering in at the windows of
all the big grand houses. I could sometimes see right
down into the basement kitchens, with servants
scurrying around.

'I am
never
going to be a servant,' I said to myself,
trying to lift my spirits. 'I am Hetty Feather and I
am not taking orders from anyone. I am as free as
the air. I can go anywhere. I can do anything. I can
totally please myself.'

But my spirits still seeped right down into my
hard boots, and I was snivelling as I walked, unable
to control myself. I was so tired and light-headed
I sank to the ground, leaning against someone's
wall. I covered my face with my hands so that folk
passing by would not see I was crying. Then footsteps
paused in front of me. Something landed in my lap.
Oh Lord, was this another child throwing stones? I
took my hands away from my eyes – and stared at a
big bright penny shining on the brown stuff of my
dress. I looked up and a kindly-looking lady nodded
at me.

'There, dearie,' she said, and went on her way.

She thought I was a beggar child! My face flamed
red – but my hand grasped the penny.

'Thank you so much, ma'am,' I called after her.

Perhaps her gesture inspired the other passers-
by. Maybe they hadn't even noticed me before. But
now my tear-stained face attracted attention, and
another penny soon landed in my lap, a farthing,
and then a halfpenny, soon a whole jingle of copper
coins.

Oh my Lord, this was easy! I could sit here at
my leisure and look mournful and folk would pay
me! But then I saw a dark-uniformed man in the
distance, a helmet on his head. I was pretty sure he
was a policeman. I was also pretty sure that begging
was against the law.

I gathered my coins into my fist, scrambled up
and ran off as fast as I could. I careered down long,
long roads of houses, my throat aching, my heart
jumping in my chest, not even daring to look round
in case he caught me. I feared the police had prisons
and I did not want to end up in a cell.

Then I came to a parade of shops and dared to
pause at last. The policeman was nowhere in sight.
I loitered in front of every shop window, and then
came to a stop outside a baker's shop. The smell of
freshly baked bread brought a flood of water to my
mouth and I felt faint.

I stared at the cakes and buns on display in the
window. There were slabs of the pink and yellow
cake, Madame Adeline's favourite, and white-iced
fancy cakes, and red and green and yellow jam tarts,
and all manner of golden latticed pies and glazed
buns, shiny and soft and curranty.

I had no idea how much such wonders would cost.
They could be sixpence each, even a sovereign for
all I knew. Perhaps the woman in the white apron
inside the shop would scoff at my impertinence if I
proffered my small handful of coins. But I was so
hungry I decided to risk it.

I opened the door and stepped inside. 'If you
please, ma'am . . .' I started shyly.

'Yes?'

'I – I'd like to purchase a little cake – or maybe
a bun?'

'Well, make your mind up, dear,' she said, but she
didn't sound too impatient.

'Perhaps a cake, the pink and yellow one –
and
a
bun?' I suggested, and then I anxiously showed her
my coins. 'Do I have enough money?'

'More than enough, dear.'

She put my cake and bun into a white paper bag,
twirled it round so that the corners were twisted
fast, took twopence halfpenny from my hand, and
gave the bag to me.

'Thank you kindly, ma'am,' I said.

She laughed a little then. 'You've got the best
manners of any street child I've ever come across
before!' she said. 'Goodbye, dear. Take care of
yourself.'

I
could
take care of myself! I had found a place to
sleep, a place to wash, I had earned lots of money,
and now I could breakfast like a queen! I ate my cake
and bun, and when I came to a tea stall I bought
myself a large mugful for another penny. Then I
went marching on, refreshed and renewed, peering
all about me.

I found myself wandering in more huge parkland.
For a moment I thought I was back in Hyde Park
because I heard an elephant trumpeting – but
I discovered I was near the Zoological Gardens. I
peered through the railings and saw an elephant
even larger than Elijah with a curved seat on his
back. Ten or twelve children were strapped onto the
seat, while another boy rode bareback on his neck,
his boots nudging the beast's great ears.

I had a desperate desire to ride an elephant too!
I paid sixpence to get into the zoo, and another
twopence for a ride. This was the last of my money
so I very much hoped the ride would be worth it. I
queued impatiently at the landing stage amongst a
great crowd of girls and boys, waiting until at last
it was my turn to be hoisted onto the great grey
creature.

'I am very good at riding. Please may I sit on the
elephant's neck?' I begged the keeper.

'Don't be silly, missy – you're a young lady,'
said the keeper, and he put one of the boys on the
elephant's neck.

The boy nodded at me triumphantly, pulling a
silly face. Other boys shrieked and squirmed beside
me, jostling for the best position on the seat – but I
was adept at elbowing my way when I wanted. One
of the other girls was hopelessly squashed, however,
with two rude boys practically sitting on top of her.

'Move next to me,' I said.

She smiled at me timidly. She was beautiful, just
like a fairy-tale princess, with big blue eyes, rosy
cheeks and long golden curls. She wore a cream silk
hat and a matching silk dress, with white stockings
and white kid boots with tiny blue buttons.

'Come on, wriggle past those silly boys,' I said,
reaching out and grabbing her.

She squeezed past them and I pulled her
safely down next to me. I could feel her trembling
violently.

'What's the matter?' I asked in astonishment.

'I'm frightened!' she said.

I didn't know if she was frightened of the elephant,
frightened of heights, frightened of the rude boys, or
simply frightened of getting her pretty pale clothes
dirty. I reached out and held her hand.

'There now, no need to be frightened. I will look
after you,' I said. 'My name's Hetty. What's yours?'

'I'm Rosabel,' she said.

I sighed. Trust her to have a beautiful name
too!

The elephant was fully loaded now, so the keeper
gave him a little tap and we set off, plodding down
the path. The boys shrieked loudly and Rosabel
clutched me as if she would never let me go.

'Oh dear, it's so scary! I wish the beast wouldn't
roll
so,' she gasped. She peered down desperately.
'I've lost sight of my mama and papa. Can you see
yours?'

I would have a hard job seeing either!

'I am here on my own,' I said proudly.

'Without even your nurse?' said Rosabel.

'I don't have a nurse any more,' I said. 'I am too
big.'

'No you're not, you're little, much smaller than
me,' said Rosabel. 'Oh,
there
is Mama. I see her
lilac parasol!' She risked letting go for a second,
attempting a little wave.

I stared at her mother. 'She is very young and
beautiful,' I said wistfully.

Her papa was waving too. He looked a kindly,
jolly man, with a pink face.

'Papa is pleased with me for taking the elephant
ride. He feels I am too timid,' said Rosabel. 'But
Mama says all girls are naturally timid.'

'I'm a girl and I'm not the
slightest
bit timid,' I
said.

'Perhaps we could be friends and then you could
teach me how to be bold and independent,' said
Rosabel.

My heart leaped. Maybe Rosabel's family would
take me under their wing? I could be a devoted
companion to their little daughter! They might
even adopt me like Polly. I wasn't sure I should be
happy wearing cream silk dresses and fancy hats
and white boots. I knew how dirty they would be by
the end of the day. Maybe they would let me choose
a darker colour for my clothes, red or blue or purple
–
any
colour so long as it wasn't sludge-brown. I
didn't hunger after dolls and toys but I was sure a
cosseted child like Rosabel would have a whole shelf
of storybooks – and I could share them.

I was still eagerly picturing my future with
Rosabel as the elephant plodded back up the path
to the landing stage. I kept hold of Rosabel's hand
and helped her down carefully.

'Rosabel! Over here, my dear!' both parents
called.

I trotted over with her, but the mama suddenly
looked horrified and even the papa appeared grave.

'Say goodbye to the little girl, dearest,' said the
mama, very firmly.

'She is my new friend Hetty,' said Rosabel.

'Don't be ridiculous, Rosabel. She is just a dirty
street child. Leave go of her hand. You should never
have let her get so near to you!' said the mama.

The papa turned on me. 'Be off with you,' he said,
swotting at me.

If they thought I was a street child, I would
act like one. I stuck out my tongue and waggled it
hard before running away. My feelings were hurt
nevertheless, but I diverted myself by inspecting
all the creatures in their cages: the scampering
monkeys, the pacing lions, the savage bear in his
pit. I felt sorry for all these poor caged animals. I
wanted to set them free so that the monkeys could
snatch up all the flimsy parasols, the lions could
leap at all the scornful parents and the bear maul
them to pieces.