The Girl Who Walked on Air (14 page)

That night I couldn’t sleep. I got up to open a window, but none of them would shift. Then something made me check the door. That too was locked. I rattled the handle but it held fast. I kicked the door hard.

He really was keeping a beady eye on us, then. Frustrated, I flopped down on the bed. What a fool I’d been to think Mr Wellbeloved held the answer to my dreams. Mr Chipchase had tried to warn me. So had Miss Lilly’s cards. But I’d been too full of my own notions. I’d ignored all the signs.

Yet come what may, I’d see this through. That night in Sharpfield had taught me. Running away didn’t solve things; it just put them off for a while. Mr Wellbeloved seemed to think only scared people ran. That’s what Gabriel had done. And actually, all those years ago my mam had run from something too. Or
someone
.

I sat bolt upright.

Slowly, horribly, like ice dripping between my shoulder blades, I began to wonder. Did Mr Wellbeloved know something about . . . my mother?

I got to my feet, ran my fingers through my hair. No, of course he didn’t. Why would he? It was a daft idea. My mam might be anywhere. Yet despite the heat of the room, my skin turned to gooseflesh.

He’d found the red taffeta heart. Or, I thought with a shiver, he’d taken it himself just to taunt me. Then there were the dresses bought especially for me, and that he deliberately hadn’t chosen me so he could test the lengths I’d go to. He’d threatened Mrs Franklin, who might know who I was. And he’d commented on my red hair, which Mr Chipchase insisted I kept hidden. It was all mighty strange.

None of it was rock solid, but as hunches go, it was the only one I’d had so far. And it filled me with a sort of dread. Gabriel Swift had run away, yet Mr Wellbeloved had caught him. Mam had been running too when she abandoned me.
Please God
, if my hunch was right, that he’d never caught her. With a shudder I thought of his grip on my ankle today, and the threat that came with it. It was the very worse punishment to inflict on me, to keep me from the people I loved.

The air seemed to leave the room. I felt suddenly dizzy and had to sit down. After all these years, Mam had never come back for me. She’d promised; it was there in her letter. Mr Chipchase had expected it too. Now I realised it properly: something or
someone
really was stopping her. And I reckoned I might know who.

What I needed was proof.

I couldn’t sit still. I got up again and paced the floor.
Think Louie, think
.

My brain went blank. Perhaps I was wrong about all this. It might just be nerves. What I needed was to talk to someone. But that alone was queer enough; whenever Jasper had tried, I’d clammed right up. Now I was bursting to tell. And with no Jasper here and no Ned, there was only one person for the job, someone who had earlier told me a painful secret of his own. Luckily he was just down the passageway in the next room but one.

No point trying the locked door. Instead, I went to the window and shook it. Once. Twice. Paint flaked off. The glass rattled. Then the lock began to lift from the frame. Another yank and it came off in my hand.

I eased myself out onto the balcony. The air was cool with its tang of the river. In the distance, the Falls roared on. Or perhaps it was my own pulse. A little shaft of light came from the next window along: Mr Wellbeloved’s room. Beyond it was Gabriel’s.

Flicking back my hair, I took a slow breath. Each balcony was about six feet apart. It looked easy enough. All I had to do was jump, then sneak past the lighted window. Below were bushes and trees, enough to break a fall. Not that I planned to fall anywhere.

After tying a knot in my nightshift hem, I climbed onto the railing. The handrail part was flat, about two inches wide.
Wide enough to stand on
. I felt with my feet. The metal was cold. My fingers touched the wall of the house for balance. Even a big stride wouldn’t reach the next balcony. I had to jump. Mr Wellbeloved’s balcony was cluttered with stupid plant pots, and I couldn’t risk landing on one as it’d wake the whole town. His balcony had railings too, so I aimed for the handrail. It was my best shot. I counted down in my head. Felt my feet flex, my legs go tight. I pushed down, throwing myself forwards.

I hung in mid-air. Then my feet touched metal. Everything slowed down. I reeled backwards, then forwards, and didn’t fall. Except I still had a lighted window to get past, and another balcony to jump to. From here it was clear that Gabriel’s balcony wasn’t six feet away; it was more like ten. I couldn’t leap that far.

Mr Wellbeloved’s curtains were open. I flattened myself against the building, his window at my right shoulder. Bit by bit, I peered inside; just one eye’s worth of looking, the rest of me in shadow. He was sitting on a chair. I jerked back.
Had he seen me?
I waited for my heartbeat to slow. Then I looked again.

His room was bigger than mine. The bed was hung with drapes, and there were carpets on the floor. A far wall was covered in photographs. Opposite the bed was a dark wood wardrobe, its doors open to show shirts, jackets, scarves; far more than could fit in a travelling trunk. I supposed nowadays this room must count as his home.

Mr Wellbeloved got up from his chair. I shrank back, waited a moment, then had another look. He was leaning over his desk with a box open before him. He leafed through its contents at speed. Papers spilled out onto the floor. The faster he searched, the grimmer he looked. Then he stopped. He seemed to have found what he was after. In his hand was something red. It looked like fabric, all balled up. I peered closer, my breath misting up the glass. Now I couldn’t see a thing.

In the end, I gave up looking. Tiptoeing to the other side of the balcony, I noticed Gabriel’s window was in darkness. It really was too far to jump. There was nothing to swing from or grab hold of. Typical that now I was ready to talk about Mam, I couldn’t get to the one person I trusted to listen.

I heard a window open.

‘Who’s out there?’ It was Mr Wellbeloved.

I breathed in sharp. Leaped onto the handrail, stood flat against the wall. A shadow fell across the balcony.

‘Louisa,’ he said, a smile in his voice. ‘Of course it’s you.’

I bit my lip to stop me answering.
Drat him!
He’d locked me in on purpose, hadn’t he? Not to stop me running, but to test me. He’d set the challenge and once again I’d seized it. I’d followed his trail of crumbs.

For a long, painful moment I didn’t move. Mr Wellbeloved stayed at the window. I sensed him just inches away. Watching. Sniffing the breeze like some scent hound. Then, at last, came a clunk as the window was closed.

I didn’t look back. I pushed off the wall with all my might and jumped into the dark. Something loomed in front of me. My hands went out. And . . .
smack.
I fell hard against the railings, then slid to the floor.

My hip hurt and I could taste blood. But I’d made it. I kept very still for what felt like an age. At Mr Wellbeloved’s window the curtains were now drawn. Everything got darker, and I gasped in relief.

I got up slowly. My mouth was a little bloody but I wasn’t badly hurt. I tapped softly at Gabriel’s window. No answer. I tried to pull it open, but like mine it was locked. I pressed my ear to the glass. No sounds inside either.

‘Gabriel,’ I hissed. ‘Let me in.’

No reply.

I tried again. Still nothing.

A little top window had been left open. Standing on tiptoe I could just reach it. I slid my arm in. My fingertips brushed the main window bolt. A twist and a heave and it opened. I slipped inside.

The room was dark and stuffy.

‘Gabriel?’

My stomach dropped. There was no one here. The bed wasn’t slept in. The lock on the door had been forced from the inside. Yet Gabriel’s kitbag was still on the chair. His shoes were here too, placed neatly on the rug. I prayed he hadn’t done a runner, that perhaps like me he just couldn’t sleep.

The gates to the pleasure gardens were locked. But by now the moon was up, and I saw the hedge was full of person-sized holes. Once I’d crawled through, I followed the path to the gorge. It was as good a place as any to look for Gabriel.

I’d only gone a few yards down it when a man stepped out in front of me. In the moonlight my nightshift glowed like a lamp. There was no point hiding.

‘Where you going, ladydeee?’

Even shouting above the roar of the Falls his voice had a nasty drawl to it. I couldn’t see his face, but his neck was as wide as his head.

‘Just walking,’ I said.

‘Well, you turn round and walk that a-way,’ he said, jerking his chin towards town. He was some sort of watchman, I guessed, keeping guard over I-didn’t-know-what.

By chance I looked skywards. We stood right under a huge splay of guy ropes. They reached high above the trees and then went down into the earth. My mouth fell open. Tomorrow I’d be trusting these ropes with my life. Instinctively, I touched one, feeling it tight and smooth against my fingers.

Keep me safe
.
Keep us both safe.

‘Take your hands off!’ the watchman shouted. ‘And get gone!’

He came towards me. I smelled whisky on his breath. I stepped backwards, as if to do as he said. Then, flash quick, I shot right round him, and ran like bleeding hell.

Very soon I reached the edge of the gorge. The path curved to run alongside it. I kept going. The Falls drowned out everything, though I sensed the watchman still behind me. At last, I risked looking round. I’d lost him. I slowed to a jog, then a walk. The path was slippery wet underfoot and mist hung heavy in the air. Still no one appeared. I stopped to draw breath.

A hand shot out of the bushes and grabbed my arm. A scream filled my throat. The hand became an arm, then a boy in a crumpled dark suit with damp hair flopping forward on his face.

I nearly choked in relief. ‘Gabriel!’ I gasped. ‘I’ve been looking for you!’

‘Here I am,’ he said.

‘What on earth
are you up to?’ I said, very aware that I was bare-footed and in my nightgown.

‘I came to have a look,’ he said. ‘Have you seen it?’

‘The guy ropes?’

‘And the rest.’ He held out his hand. ‘Come with me.’

I took his hand. It was cold and trembling. Quickly, he led me the way I’d just come. I held back, trying to tell him the watchman was down here, and if he found us we’d be someone’s kippers for breakfast. Gabriel didn’t stop, not until we veered left off the path.

He dropped my hand. ‘This is it. The starting point.’

This morning it hadn’t been finished: now it was. The grass was cropped so short it felt spiky beneath my feet. Then I saw benches, rows and rows of them in lines, like I’d imagined a school might look. My heart began to race. There were more guy ropes too, and a set of wooden steps. And above us, a taut black line; the tightrope itself.

‘Well I never,’ I said, gazing upwards in awe.

The world seemed to fold in on itself very slowly. No sound, no thoughts, no sense of anything else.

It was me. And the rope.

A tingling spread down my back, into my legs and toes. I saw myself walking out over the Falls, every step, every breath passing through me to the rope and back again. On and on, a continuous, magical loop.

I would not,
could not
fail.

I gazed until my neck ached. Then I said out loud, ‘I can do this. I am ready.’

But looking at Gabriel, I winced. He was slumped on the steps, head in his hands.

‘I can’t do it, Louie,’ he said. ‘I know I can’t.’

I went to him, taking hold of his wrists and gently pushing them aside. I wanted to see his face, and for him to see mine, so filled up with magic.

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘you can. You did it today, didn’t you?’

Our eyes locked. Then he breathed out slowly through his teeth.

‘What I’d give to have your courage, Louie,’ he said. ‘Even a piece of it would be enough.’

Letting go of Gabriel, I took a step back. I didn’t have courage for everything, not really. What I had was a way of shutting things out. Anything that hurt me or made me uncertain and –
bam
– the door closed on it. But tonight was different. I wanted to talk.

‘Can I tell you something?’ I said.

‘If you like.’

My knees shook a little. I took a very deep breath.

‘My mam left me at Chipchase’s when I was a baby. I ain’t seen her since, and all this time I’ve been angry that she didn’t come back for me like she promised.’

Gabriel didn’t say anything, so I kept going. ‘See, I reckon I was scared. It was easier to be angry than be hurt. But you’ve made me think, Gabriel. And I see now that really she
did
care about me. It just might not have looked that way.’

‘And Mr Chipchase?’ he said.

‘Yes, maybe he cared too.’

‘It’s been quite a day for revelations, hasn’t it?’

I smiled. ‘It has.’

‘And your mother? Is she still alive?’

‘I think so. I’ve a hunch she might be here in America, though I don’t know where. And that maybe Mr Wellbeloved knows something.’

It sounded wild and silly, but I had to share it.

‘You might be on to something,’ he said. ‘Mr Wellbeloved is fixated on you, Louie. Far more than he’s ever been on me.’

I shuddered. ‘Really?’

‘Yes. The question is – why?’

I’d hoped it might be my talent for the tightrope. But Gabriel was right; there was something more.

I took another long breath.

Think of the rope, Louie.

For the tightrope was different to the way I’d felt about Mam. Or maybe, thinking of it now, it wasn’t. It was about focusing on the safe part, not the dangers below. It was trusting that whatever happened, you’d get to the other side. I had courage for that. Yet how could I give some of it to Gabriel? Especially when Mr Wellbeloved had taken so much of it away.

The Falls kept rumbling. Not far off, lanterns moved through the trees. My stomach tightened; we didn’t have long.

‘Would you try something?’ I said.

Gabriel’s face fell. ‘No, Louie. It won’t work. I’m not really cured. You see, I do still fear the rope. I don’t trust it like you do, not after what happened to Albert.’

‘Climb those steps,’ I said, pointing to the ones that led up to the tightrope.

Gabriel looked at me.

‘Just climb them, that’s all.’

He shrugged. ‘All right.’

Once he’d reached the top, I took my spot on the bottom step.

He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Stay there.’

‘Promise,’ I said, holding up my hands.

He stood very still with his back to me. I waited. If it worked, he’d find his own courage. If it didn’t, he’d turn round again, and we’d have to deal with tomorrow some other way.

I watched.

After a bit, Gabriel straightened up. He flexed his feet. Next thing, he stepped out onto the rope. I gripped the handrail.
Keep going, Gabriel. Keep walking
. I counted to twenty in my head, then climbed the steps. And when I saw he’d only walked four or five strides out and was still standing above the trees, I was sorry. It hadn’t worked after all. He’d frozen up again and now I’d need to talk him down.

‘Step back slowly,’ I yelled. ‘Take your time.’

I thought he hadn’t heard me. Then I gasped. Gabriel hadn’t frozen, not in the slightest. He began to twirl his arms, first one way, then the other, and stretched out each leg in turn with all the grace, all the talent I knew he had in him. He took two, three, four more steps out. Now he was right above the gorge. He spun round on one foot, a great smile on his face.

I could’ve burst with happiness. He’d found his courage; it was there for all to see, glowing in him like fire. Anyone brave enough to walk the Falls could stand up to Mr Wellbeloved. This time, I reckoned Gabriel would, and he’d be heard.

‘All right, so you
can
do it! Come on back now!’ I cried, laughing and waving.

Instead, Gabriel turned again and went further out onto the rope. My arm fell to my side. It was time for me to find my courage too. Once he came down off the rope, we’d talk some more about my hunch concerning Mam.

Suddenly, the ground shook beneath my feet. I grabbed the handrail. The vibration went right up my arm. I spun round. The watchman and his mate were climbing the steps towards me.

‘Now we’ve got her!’ he leered.

I edged backwards up the steps. The watchman gritted his teeth and made a grab for me. I dodged sideways. A hand snatched my foot, but I kicked it off. I took another step back. Behind me was the tightrope with Gabriel on it. Twisting round, I tried to warn him.

He wasn’t there.

‘Gabriel?’ I cried in alarm.

A moment ago he’d been walking the tightrope. Now all that remained was the empty rope, and the spray around it. Far below, the river surged onwards, swirling, seething white.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, ‘Gabriel!
Gabriel!
’

The roar of the Falls was louder. Two sets of fingers clamped around my arms, tugging me down. I scrambled backwards as far as I could go. Then I ran out of steps.