Diamond Read online

  I didn’t have Ma any more, and Pa didn’t want me. Perhaps I could one day share a little cottage with Mary-Martha and baby Johnnie? I tried to picture the three of us, and as I was running around the ring, cartwheeling and capering, I chose our armchairs and embroidered our cushions. When I did my crab-walk, I filled our pantry with tins of pink cake and jars of dried dates. When I had to climb up Marvo and Julip and Tag at the end of the act, I pictured climbing the stairs to sleep in my own soft little bed – and though I still trembled, I got right to the top and stood on Tag’s shoulders and kept my balance and smiled while everyone cheered.

  I HOPED IT would get easier. After all, I could now turn neat somersaults as easily as winking. But the human column was different. It was a twice daily terror. Julip was right – the fear never went away. But there were good times too. I loved visiting Madame Adeline and eating cake and chocolates, I loved chatting to Mr Marvel and playing with little Mavis, but even then, when I was most relaxed, the fear was there in the pit of my stomach.

  Mister haunted me every day and stalked my dreams at night. I could never please him now. The more he threatened me, the worse I got, until I stumbled doing the simplest cartwheel and started whenever he said my name. I developed a nervous twitch that made him even madder. ‘Stop jerking about like a little lunatic! Stop it at once, I say!’ he’d hiss. I’d put my hands to my face, struggling to keep it still, but I could feel it twitching beneath my fingers.

  I lost all sense of where we were and how far we had travelled. We pulled down the big top every week, rain or shine, travelled through the night, arrived at a new town or village, slept through the morning, and rehearsed and performed all the rest of the week. We could have been down in sunny Cornwall or up in chilly Inverness for all I knew. We might even have returned to my own home town without my realizing.

  I never left the circus field, and they all looked alike anyway. I didn’t know, I ceased to care. I took part in the circus parade through towns and villages, and barely noticed whether I was passing great stone mansions or humble cottages. All I had to do was smile until my cheeks ached, smile even when my eyes pricked with tears.

  I was hiding under the wagon one evening because Mister had threatened me with a beating and I was pretty sure he meant it. I couldn’t help sobbing, though I put my hands over my face to try to stifle the sounds. Then I heard a scuffle – and someone bent right down and peered under the wagon at me.

  Yes, Hetty, it was you!

  I was so startled I curled up small, trying to hide.

  ‘It’s all right, I’m not going to hurt you,’ the someone whispered. ‘And I won’t let anyone else hurt you either. See my red hair? I am so fierce that everyone is scared of me. Even the biggest, ugliest ogre quakes when he sees me coming. Evil giants tremble and whimper at my approach.’

  I couldn’t help giggling. I wasn’t sure if this strange girl was grown up or still a child. She was very little, like me, but she was wearing a prim cotton lady’s dress, though she wore her long hair loose about her shoulders, not caught up in a neat bun. I loved her voice. She didn’t sound like the circus folk. She didn’t sound like the Willoughby Buildings people. She didn’t sound like the gentle country folk. She didn’t sound like the proper ladies and gents who lived in big houses. She simply sounded like herself, warm and friendly and funny.

  ‘But I never ever hurt little fairy girls,’ she said. ‘And you’re a little fairy, aren’t you?’

  I shivered at the name, because that was what Mister called me, but I could tell she meant it kindly. She couldn’t think I was really a fairy, could she?’

  ‘Please, miss, I’m the Acrobatic Child Wonder,’ I explained, wiping my eyes and sniffling.

  ‘Here, I have a handkerchief,’ she said, pulling a little piece of cloth from her pocket. It had embroidery all over it.

  ‘There’s pictures and letters,’ I said, stroking the little blue and yellow satin thread flowers. They were bluebells and primroses. I remembered Mary-Martha taking me to the woods long ago, where we picked great bunches of flowers and brought them home for Ma. We put them in jam jars all around the room and they looked so beautiful that we clapped our hands and laughed, and even Ma seemed happy . . . but within a few hours our beautiful flowers were drooping and dying and we had to throw them away.

  I traced the letters embroidered underneath. The girl sensed I was less sure now, and told me they were her initials – SB for Sapphire Battersea – ‘Although no one calls me that now. All the folk here call me Hetty.’

  I said I was called Diamond and she thought it a most beautiful name, which pleased me greatly. I thought the handkerchief so pretty I didn’t want to spoil it, so I wiped my nose on my petticoat instead. Hetty smiled at me and said I could keep the handkerchief if I liked it so much.

  ‘Really? For my very own?’ I said, and I tucked it away quickly in case she changed her mind.

  Hetty tried to persuade me to creep out from under the wagon.

  ‘I’m scared to come out, because Mister will get me,’ I said.

  Hetty looked horrified when I said he would beat me. ‘Can you tell your father?’ she asked. She said the word ‘father’ as if she thought all fathers very special men who protected their daughters. I thought of my own pa and how he had sold me for five guineas, and I started sobbing again.

  ‘Isn’t there anyone kind who will look after you?’ Hetty asked, wriggling under the wagon too so she could put her arm round me.

  ‘Madame Addie is kind,’ I said.

  Hetty’s whole face lit up. ‘Oh, Madame Adeline! Yes, I am sure she is very kind,’ she said, as if she knew her. ‘I have come looking for her. Will you show me her wagon, Diamond?’

  So I crawled out and she took my hand, squeezing it tightly when we went past Mister’s wagon. We went to Madame Adeline’s lovely green wagon right at the end. She was sitting on her steps before her fire wearing her favourite green silk gown, looking magical. She saw the tear stains on my face and held out her arms to me.

  ‘Come here, darling,’ she said, and I ran to her, proud that Hetty should see that such a lovely exotic lady cared for me.

  She cared for Hetty too. She called her Little Star, and this made Hetty burst into tears too! They talked of when they’d last met, both so tender, and then Hetty cried again when she said that she’d lost her dear mama.

  ‘Is your mother dead too, Hetty?’ I asked. ‘Mine went to live with the angels.’

  ‘My mama lives there too,’ said Hetty, wiping her eyes. ‘I’m sure she has wonderful white feathery wings and a dress as blue as the sky. Maybe they fly from cloud to cloud together. But my mama flies down to see me every now and then. She creeps inside my heart and speaks to me. She is a great comfort. Perhaps your mama will do the same.’

  I thought this over carefully. I wasn’t really sure I welcomed the thought of Ma squatting beside me, watching my every move. I was sure she’d be disappointed in me. She’d weep more than ever. I put my thumb in my mouth, and rocked myself sadly.

  Madame Adeline smiled at me comfortingly. ‘Now, my girls, I’m going to have a cup of tea. Would you like one too?’

  I took my thumb out of my mouth. ‘And cake?’ I said hopefully.

  Madame Adeline laughed. ‘I expect we can find a cake if we search hard,’ she said.

  She made a delightful game of it, pretending to hunt the cake in her beautiful wagon, looking under the table and in her bed, which was so funny I cheered up enormously.

  We ate our tea and each had a big slice of pink and yellow cake. I nibbled mine slowly, peeling off the marzipan and saving it till last because I liked it so much. But then I heard Mister shouting and the cake turned sour in my mouth. I thought he was after me, but it turned out he was challenging a stranger from the village who had come marching across the field and was running from wagon to wagon, calling for Hetty.

  ‘Oh my Lord, it’s Jem. He must have followed me,’ said Hetty, flushing.

  I p