The Road to Gundagai (11 page)

Mrs Olsen grasped the bottom of the swing she was sitting on. She suddenly let go, in a small neat dive, to hang by her knees too. Back and forth went the swings, the two women swaying like pendulums. Blue counted ten swings. They both reached out their arms. Once again Gertrude flew across the tent. Blue bit her lip to stop the scream as Mrs Olsen grabbed her daughter’s wrists. They hung there, mother dangling from the swing, holding daughter, muscles bunching, smiles firmly in place …

‘Ladder,’ called Gertrude.

Ebenezer pushed the ladder so it swung back to the two women again. Gertrude caught it, twisted it till she found a foothold and began her descent.

‘End of the free show,’ she called to the watchers below, giving each of the policemen a smile. ‘If you want any more, you can pay a shilling.’ The smile vanished suddenly. ‘Except it’s extra for coppers. Ten bob for the lot of you.’

‘Gertrude,’ said Mrs Olsen sharply, as the sergeant said, ‘None of your lip, girl. All right, so you two are the Boldini Brothers, and,’ pointing at Frederika, ‘you’re the bearded lady. Fakes, the lot of you then.’

Gertrude leaped off the last two yards of ladder. She landed neatly beside the sergeant. ‘If you think what we did up there is fakery, you try it.’ She offered him the ladder.

‘Gertrude, sit down.’ Madame sounded like a duchess now. ‘Can we help you any further, sir?’

‘Yes. You two,’ he nodded at Blue and Frederika, ‘take off them wigs. Now.’

Ebenezer stepped forwards. ‘Sir, you can see we’re not hiding anyone.’

‘That’s as may be. But I like to know who I’m dealing with. The wigs.’

Blue lifted her wig off, then, inspired, pulled out the rubber-ball halves from her front too. The sergeant gave a bark of laughter. ‘Look at that, Foster,’ he said to the young constable. ‘That girl you was so stuck on is nothing but a lad. What’s your real name, eh? Bert instead of Belle?’

Blue flushed. The constable had thought she was beautiful. The sergeant looked down the row of dancers, then stopped as he stared at Frederika, with blonde hair now as short as Blue’s. Suddenly the dancer was revealed as a young man, in his early twenties perhaps, wiry and firm-muscled, but still with those laughing oriental eyes.

‘The name’s Fred,’ said Frederika/Fred helpfully. He pulled two whole rubber balls out of the top of his camisole and began to juggle them idly. ‘Ain’t bearded, ain’t a lady.’

‘I see.’ The sergeant seemed to be trying to think of a law that said that women couldn’t pretend to be men on a trapeze, and a young man couldn’t play a harem girl. ‘Just a mob of fakers, like I said. Don’t suppose you have an honest bone between the lot of you. Any of you care to tell me how a family circus comes to own that truck out there? Don’t come cheap, trucks like that.’

‘I sold jewellery,’ said Madame.

‘And where did you get that then?’ He’s trying to make us angry, thought Blue. And then, he knows his job.

‘It was a gift, long ago.’

‘Was it now? And it was just coincidence that the circus might have been in town when there was a jewel robbery?’

‘Once I was beautiful,’ said Madame, and suddenly listening to her voice you could believe it. ‘More beautiful than Gertrude, or any girl that you have seen. I had no need for theft, for men gave me jewels.’

‘No one has ever accused us of jewel robbery.’ There was a touch of heat in Ebenezer’s voice now. ‘Except that lady back in Geelong. Lost her bracelet. Ginger here noticed she’d dropped it in the House of Horrors.’

‘All innocent-like, I suppose. And if she hadn’t reported it missing, it would have been another “legacy”?’

‘We gave it back to her before she knew it had dropped off,’ said Ebenezer stolidly.

‘We are an honest family, officer.’ Madame’s voice quivered with age and honesty. All trace of a foreign accent had vanished. ‘We are just trying to do the best we can in these hard times. Is it a crime to brighten people’s lives with a little pretence and glitter? For that is all it is. They laugh at the clown, they scream in the House of Horrors, they gasp at Mrs Olsen and her Gertrude. We make a few performers seem like many, to give them value for their shilling. The audience go home happy. Do we do wrong?’

‘How much did you make back at Willow Creek?’

‘Seven pounds, four shillings and sixpence,’ said Ebenezer. And my ten pounds, thought Blue. ‘Enough to pay for the petrol for the generator and keep the truck running. Not enough for new tyres, although we need ’em. We also got two bags of carrots, a sack of spuds, a side of mutton and all the hay we can carry. Some folks pay in kind.’

‘Satisfied, sergeant?’ asked Madame. She didn’t wait for his answer. ‘Boys, we have a show to put on. Ginger, Fred, on with your costumes. Ephraim, Ebenezer, take Sheba down the main street again. Only half an hour mind, in this heat, but we need to let people know we have arrived. Bert, put on your wig again, you must be Belle. I want you to ride Sheba today. Smile and wave, dear, you know the drill. Young man,’ to the constable, ‘could you show me to my caravan? I am feeling … a little faint …’

She didn’t look faint, although her voice wobbled authentically. The constable ushered her out.

Blue blinked hard to force away her own faintness. Sweat trickled down her face and her legs. She looked down and saw a small rose of blood soaking the fabric at her knee. For the first time that day nausea rose. She pressed her knees together and hoped no one would notice.

How did you ride an elephant? She didn’t think she could even walk back to the caravan, much less ride through town. But at least the police were leaving, walking far too slowly out of the tent, still casting suspicious glances at each shadow.

Ebenezer bent down to her. ‘You all right, love?’

‘My scar. It’s bleeding. I think … I feel a bit …’

‘Here.’ He pulled a flask from his pocket. ‘Take a swig of that.’

‘More herbs?’

‘Whisky. Well, they called it whisky. But it’ll dull the pain.’ He spoke with the assurance of a man who was used to pain, and how to dull it. ‘Don’t you worry about riding Sheba. The old girl is quiet as a lamb. We’ll heave you up on her, and give you a rope to hold. You sit side-saddle, smooth as if you’re resting in an armchair. Just wave and smile, especially if you see a copper.’ He patted her hand. ‘Best way to hide something is in plain sight, that’s what Madame keeps tellin’ us.’

‘Is she really your aunt?’

‘She is now. Yours too.’

‘Great-aunt,’ said Blue slowly. ‘If I’m your niece or nephew, and she’s your aunt.’

‘She’s great all right.’ There was curious emotion in the man’s voice.

‘She saved my life,’ said Blue, still halfway between belief and incredulity.

‘She saved my life too. Saved all of us,’ said Ebenezer.

He was gone before she could ask him how.

Half an hour later she sat on a red cloth with gold tassels on top of an elephant, holding a gold braided rope, waving to the women who peered from the general store, the blokes outside the post office, the children calling excitedly as they peered over the school fence. Even the weary bagmen carrying their swags lifted their tattered hats to her.

Smile, she thought, smile! She forced back the pain and nausea.

The red cloth was worn and stained. But Sheba trod as gently as Ebenezer had promised. The faces on the footpath glowed with wonder as they passed, at the elephant, the men in dinner jackets and top hats, the trombone and the placard, and the blonde harem dancer, waving down at them.

For a while, at least — till her wig and greasepaint were removed — she was the most beautiful girl in all their town.

Chapter 11

The police car had gone when Sheba slowly plodded back to the circle of caravans. Blue grabbed the rope to steady herself as the elephant sat on her hind legs then slowly lowered her front half down.

She had to get off. But her muscles wouldn’t move. The world felt cold suddenly, and dark at the edges.

‘Better grab her, Fred.’

‘Come on, princess.’ Arms reached up to her. She let herself slide into them. Someone carried her up the stairs of the caravan, into the heat inside.

‘I’ll see to her.’ It was Mrs Olsen’s voice. Strong hands lifted off the wig, stripped off the harem pants and then slid off the camisole.

Blue shut her eyes with the pain. ‘I’m sorry. There’s a stain on the pants …’

‘Not to worry.’ The words were gentle. Not Aunt Lilac’s gentle, which seemed to be reining back an inner anger, but the statement of a simple truth. She was not to worry …

‘Blood comes out easy enough in cold water. Just don’t you eat peanuts in that costume. Peanut oil leaves a stain for good.’ The hands propped her up, slipped the nightdress down to her waist, then offered her more of Madame’s medicine. She sipped and felt a little of the nausea and shakiness ease. Mrs Olsen lowered her to the feather pillow. ‘Shut your eyes now.’

A damp cloth wiped the stains from her legs. Another dabbed them dry. She felt the coolness of some sort of cream on the broken edge of scar tissue. Now the cloth dabbed at her face, soothing as well as cleaning off the make-up. She heard the caravan door close, voices outside, something about carrots, and peeling potatoes, and squished flies.

Squished flies? She must have misheard.

Once again she dropped over the cliff into sleep, sudden and deep despite the heat. The caravan windows were bright when she woke, but it was the gleam of electricity, not sunlight, the thud of the generator making the whole caravan vibrate.

The performance in the Big Top had begun. She could tell what was happening by the sounds outside now, the thud of Sheba’s feet, the mutter of Gertrude’s voice, the softer tones of Mrs Olsen, the shout of Ebenezer as the ringmaster.

She could even hear the crowd’s gasps from here as Glorious Gloria thrilled them, then Tiny Titania enchanted them; she heard their laughter as Boffo the clown interrupted the ‘Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’, and the heavy plod of Sheba’s feet as she came back. Did Blue just imagine the big animal was glad to get back to the peace between the caravans?

The harem dancers’ music floated from just outside the performers’ entrance. She hoped they hadn’t expected her to dance tonight. She would have forced her body to do it, but was glad not to have had to try.

The dance music ended. The dancers must be outside again now. For a moment someone spoke in a language Blue didn’t understand. She sat up, and peered through the window. A shadow stroked the big beast’s trunk, while Sheba crunched what must have been a carrot. She thought it was Madame’s shape and Madame’s voice, but could not be sure.

Blue lay back again.

‘Peanuts or lollies?’

Blue smiled. That was Ephraim, the ticket-seller who played the trombone and was also Boffo the clown. The crowd noise had broken into individual voices again now, chattering and laughing.

The sounds faded again. A whip cracked once, twice, three times. Intermission must be over.

‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, the Magnifico Family Circus gives you the one and only, the most astounding: the Boldini Brothers!’

The audience became one again. Screams and then cheers. Blue wished she could go out and look. But she’d need more make-up to cover her scars, and something other than a nightdress to wear.

She had also learned enough, even in the past twenty-four hours, to realise that she might get in the way. Even Boffo’s act demanded perfect timing. If she accidentally interrupted Gertrude’s concentration as she made her extraordinary flight across the tent, it might be deadly.

How many years had it taken to be able to soar from one swing to another? How much practice did it take to be so precise that mother and daughter could grab each other’s wrists as one flew through the air? How much courage must it take, night after night, to know that any slip was almost certain death?

And could a girl with scarred legs ever learn to …?

Stop it, she told herself. You can’t even stay on your feet for a whole day. Ridiculous to think of flying on the trapeze.

And yet …

The music changed. More laughter — Boffo must have another act. Then Ebenezer’s voice offering ‘the Amazing Alonzo, magician extraordinaire’. Blue wondered who the Amazing Alonzo might be. Fred or Ephraim?

At last a soft voice said, ‘Come on, Sheba girl.’ Sheba plodded past her caravan again as the needle scratched its way through yet another record.

The trombone blared. The audience gasped and cheered, and laughed at whatever the next act must be. And then applause, over and over and over, and a burst of noise that meant the whole performance was over at last, then the crowd was bumping its way out of the Big Top, over to the carts and automobiles and bicycles, the young men arm in arm with their girls, the mothers holding their children’s hands.

She could almost see her own family out there, her tall father, with his ginger hair, holding the little boy in his arms, the girl with one hand tucked under her father’s elbow, the other in her mother’s fingers, happy and laughing at the show they’d seen.

‘I wish you could be here,’ she whispered. ‘Just once, I wish we’d seen the circus, all together.’

An automobile hooted. A boy yelled. Then, surprisingly quickly, there was silence, except for the gentle chomping of the elephant.

‘Hey, Belle? You awake?’ Ginger’s head appeared at the door. He was the small boy again, not Tiny Titania or the hunchback. ‘Madame said youse got to take your medicine again, then come have supper. We’re over there.’ He nodded to a newly made fire in the circle of the caravans. The circus family sat around it, on bales of hay, while Sheba munched slowly behind them. Mrs Olsen stirred a large black pot suspended from an iron trivet over the flames.

Blue tried to control a shiver. ‘Isn’t Sheba frightened of the fire?’

‘Her? Course not.’ Ginger sounded insulted. ‘Can’t have dinner without Sheba. Come on. It’s mutton goulash tonight, not rabbit. It’s good.’

He vanished.

What was goo-lash? It sounded disgusting. Blue shoved her shoes on, rather than the gold slippers, then glanced down at her nightdress. She found again the thin knitted cotton shawl she’d used that morning — only that morning?! — and tied it around her waist. At least the nightdress was cool and, anyway, the camp was shadowed, the generator off. Only the fire and a single lamp gave light now.