Little Stars Read online

  I was so caught up in the past, I couldn’t sleep that night. Diamond nodded off almost immediately, but I tossed and turned. I heard Miss Gibson making her way upstairs and bustling about her bedroom, but then there was silence.

  I took my shawl, seized my suitcase, relit the candle and tiptoed down to the kitchen. It was cold and I was glad of the shawl that Lizzie had given me. The suitcase had been Sarah’s. Both were dear friends from the past. I opened the suitcase and touched each precious object reverently: Mama’s letters and mine back to her, The Tale of Thumbelina, her little violet vase, Bertie’s black-and-white china dog, my silver sixpence from Jem. Then there were four precious fat notebooks: my three volumes of memoirs, and Diamond’s story, which I’d copied out when the circus was at its winter quarters.

  So much had happened since. I needed to start a new notebook now! I flipped through the pages of the second volume and found the first time I met Bertie. It was strange comparing that awkward young butcher’s boy to Bertie now, so cocky and confident. I wondered if it was all an act and whether he was still anxious and worried about his appearance. It made me feel even fonder of him.

  Then I searched for Jem. There were long passages in every volume, right from when I was a baby. I found it surprisingly upsetting reading about our last Christmas together. I could hardly bear to turn the pages where I left Jem and ran away to join Tanglefield’s as their ringmaster. And I hadn’t even written to him since.

  I tore out a blank page from the back of the notebook, unscrewed my pot of ink and dipped my pen. I wrote Care of Miss Gibson and then my new address.

  Dearest Jem,

  I am so sorry I haven’t written sooner. I am sure you will have been wondering what has happened to me. Or perhaps not. Maybe you never think of bad little Hetty nowadays. I wouldn’t blame you.

  I ran away to the circus, as I am sure you realized. I hope you didn’t tell poor Mother. She always disapproved of the circus so. And with good reason. I was happy for a while, but it’s no place for a young girl. I was the ringmaster there. You should have seen my costume! I don’t think you would have approved. I loved being the centre of attention (that won’t surprise you), but it was a hard life in many ways, and some of the circus folk were very cruel. However, dear Madame Adeline (remember her? The beautiful lady in pink spangles who stood on the back of a horse?) was like another mother to me. I also grew very close to a little girl acrobat called Diamond and did my best to look after her. I still take care of her now.

  But we are not at the circus any more. As you can see from the address above, we live in Fenstone, with a kind, respectable spinster lady who has a gown shop. I make gowns too. I have become quite skilled with my needle. But this is not my profession. I am a music-hall artiste.

  Please don’t disapprove! The music hall is very popular in most towns, and the Cavalcade, where I work, is exceptionally admired and considered on a par with the big London establishments. We have Lily Lark topping our bill, and I’m sure folk are humming her songs even in the countryside. There are many lovely ladies who are artistes, all perfectly respectable.

  I blushed a little as I wrote this, thinking of the dancing girl kissing slimy Samson in the wings. It might be better not to go into too much detail to Jem.

  I have worked hard developing an act with Diamond. She is exceptionally skilled at acrobatics – and you will find this surprising, but I can ride a penny-farthing! Our act is a comedy too, a little burlesque, and it goes down very well. I hope you won’t think I’m boasting, but we are practically the stars of the show. Miss Lark herself said so!

  Do come and see us if ever you are passing this way. And bring Gideon too, if you think he is up to it. I know he is sadly changed, but as a boy he was very fond of performing. Or perhaps you might care to bring Janet? She was such a dear friend to me. I know she is a dear friend to you too. Perhaps you are even a married couple by now!

  I thought of crossing out this sentence. It was only a joke, but it sounded a little false and heavy-handed. I had a sudden image of Jem in a light grey suit, Janet in a long white dress, hand in hand stepping out of the church, with all the villagers clapping and cheering, and the bells ringing to celebrate their wedding. It was a sweet image, my two special friends joined in matrimony – so why did it make the tears start in my eyes?

  I blinked fiercely, ashamed of myself.

  Please don’t ever forget that I am still your very loving Hetty

  I wrote the last sentence quickly, and then found blotting paper and an envelope in the kitchen drawer.

  I was tired by now, but I felt I should catch up with my correspondence. I’d been in the habit of writing regularly to Madame Adeline now that she was living with little Mr Marvel and his troupe of monkeys. Perhaps one of the Tanglefield folk had written to tell her that Diamond and I had run away? She would be dreadfully worried.

  Dear Madame Adeline,

  I am so sorry that I haven’t written for a little while. A lot has been happening – but do not worry, Diamond and I are safe and well!

  We are no longer at Tanglefield’s. Beppo lost his temper with poor Diamond when she fell during a performance and threatened her with such a beating that I had to spirit her away. We left that night – though they chased us. It was all very dramatic and exciting, as you can imagine. Do you remember that penny-farthing the clowns used as part of their act? Well, I appropriated it and we used it for our escape!

  We might not be circus girls any more, but we are still performers! I coached Diamond and we’ve developed a novelty double act: now we are music-hall artistes, promoted to the second act already. Who knows, we might be top of the bill one day! We are at the Cavalcade, a truly splendid establishment, all gold and red plush inside, with a capacity of two thousand!

  If you and Mr Marvel ever consider taking a trip to this part of the country (I appreciate the monkeys might prove a problem), then please come and see us. I do so hope you would be proud of us.

  We think of you very fondly every day. Diamond is asleep now, but if she were awake she would be clamouring to send her love to you. I am sending mine too. You have always been like another mother to me.

  Your loving Hetty

  I HAD TO catch up with my dressmaking as well as my letter-writing. The next day I worked very hard decorating Mrs Ruby’s orange gown. I sewed tiny red glass beads all round the neckline and cuffs and hem.

  ‘It’s splendid, Hetty, especially all those little mock rubies. She’ll love all the little touches,’ said Miss Gibson, holding the dress up and shaking the skirts this way and that.

  ‘You did the really hard bits for me,’ I said.

  ‘The gathering, yes. But I’d never have thought of the beads, or the little embroidered yellow roses down the seams at the waist, and that tiny rose inside, on the lining silk. It’s a gown fit for a queen,’ she said.

  ‘Queen Victoria?’ I said. ‘I’d need five times the material!’

  ‘Hush, you bad girl!’ exclaimed Miss Gibson. ‘Show some respect!’

  ‘Anyway, Mrs Ruby is certainly Queen of the Cavalcade,’ I said. ‘Let’s hope she’s as keen on her gown as you are, Miss Gibson.’

  Mrs Ruby was delighted. ‘Thank you, dear. I like a girl who keeps a promise,’ she said, pulling the gown from its tissue wrapping. ‘Two new gowns to choose from! Aren’t I the lucky one?’ Then she examined the dress more closely. ‘Oh, my!’ she said. And again, ‘Oh, my!’

  ‘I hope you like it, Mrs Ruby,’ I said demurely.

  ‘I love it! The detail! And even rubies, you clever little minx. I shall have them added to every gown in future.’

  Then I’d end up with bleeding fingers – though I kept smiling valiantly.

  Mrs Ruby showed off her gown to Lily Lark, who cornered me in the wings the next day. ‘I’d like you to make me a dress, little Miss Starry Talent,’ she said.

  I took a deep breath.

  ‘I know you made Mrs Ruby’s as a favour. I’ll pay, of course. I do