Diamond Read online

  My stomach tensed up. It was no use. I had to tell her.

  ‘Your brother Jem came once,’ I whispered.

  ‘Yes, he came looking for me and marched me back home,’ said Hetty.

  ‘He came after that – in Gillford. I saw him in the audience,’ I said, making a clean breast of it at last.

  ‘Are you sure, Diamond?’

  ‘Certain sure.’

  ‘Then why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I didn’t tell because . . . because I thought if you knew you might change your mind and go back to him, and I couldn’t bear that because I wanted you to stay so much. Oh, Hetty, am I very wicked? Are you cross with me?’

  ‘No, I’m not cross,’ said Hetty, but she sounded very sad, and that made me feel even worse.

  I watched her carefully the next few performances – and though she was word perfect, never missing a beat, her eyes swivelled round and round the ring as she spoke, and I knew she was checking, looking for Jem, even though we were in a different part of the country now. All through November we edged our way towards London, because we had a three-week Christmas show arranged on Clapham Common.

  Mr Tanglefield wanted all the acts to have a festive theme, so Hetty worked day and night stitching away at new costumes. She made Mr Marvel’s monkeys matching scarlet outfits edged with white fur. He found a big oval looking glass, put artificial grass around it so that it looked like a frozen pond, and set the monkeys ‘skating’ on it. The adult monkeys picked up their feet and swayed to and fro like real little skaters, but baby Mavis slid across the pretend pond on her behind and got an extra laugh.

  Hetty made two really big red dresses for the female dancing bears, and they took turns to waltz around the ring with Bruno. Then the third bear lumbered into the ring dressed as Father Christmas, with a big sack of toys, which made all the children in the audience scream with excitement.

  Mr Tanglefield even suggested Hetty make a simply vast Father Christmas costume for Elijah.

  ‘How ridiculous can you get!’ she said to Madame Adeline and me. ‘The man’s off his head!’

  ‘I hope you didn’t tell him that,’ said Madame Adeline.

  ‘No, no, I just sweet-talked him, telling him that his Father Christmas idea was wonderful but perhaps it might detract from Elijah’s oriental allure if he was forced to plod around wearing a red tent and a vast false beard. I’ve suggested festooning him with holly and ivy instead, though I’ll have to pad the holly leaves in some way so that the poor beast isn’t prickled to death. And I’m making Old Tangletummy a grand new costume in festive red and green trimmed with gold.’ Hetty paused. ‘What about you, Madame Addie? Would you like a scarlet spangled dress?’

  ‘I’ve done my best not to be called a scarlet woman all my professional life,’ said Madame Adeline. ‘But I will wear one if you think it will look effective, Hetty.’

  Hetty held the bright red silk up under Madame Adeline’s chin. It made her face look very pale and tired.

  ‘I think your lovely pink costume suits you much better,’ said Hetty. ‘Will you be altering your routine with Midnight at all?’

  ‘Midnight and I are too old to learn new tricks,’ said Madame Adeline.

  ‘They couldn’t be bettered,’ Hetty insisted.

  ‘What about me? Do I have to learn a new trick if I have a new outfit?’ I asked. ‘I don’t have to do springboard work, do I? I still don’t think I’m brave enough.’

  ‘I have a suggestion for your Mister Beppo,’ said Hetty. ‘Don’t look so worried, Diamond. I won’t suggest the springboard, I promise.’

  ‘I wouldn’t suggest anything to Beppo if I were you, Hetty,’ Madame Adeline advised.

  But Hetty was always a girl to throw caution to the wind. She squatted down beside Mister when he was smoking his pipe after tea and started whispering in his ear.

  ‘Clear off, you little busybody. I don’t want your suggestions, thank you very much,’ he growled, but Hetty persisted. She went whisper, whisper, whisper, and I saw Mister’s eyes gleam, even though his expression stayed surly.

  ‘If you must, if you must! Now leave me in peace,’ he said eventually.

  ‘What have you suggested, Hetty?’ I asked eagerly.

  Marvo, Julip and Tag were also full of questions.

  ‘Oh, I just suggested that it might look better in the ring if you were properly matching – two boys and two girls,’ said Hetty.

  ‘But we’re three boys, stupid,’ said Tag.

  ‘Don’t you know that circus is all about illusion?’ she asked. ‘I’m going to fashion you a beautiful spangled fairy frock with little wings, Tag, and until your own hair grows you can wear a curly wig.’

  ‘What?’ he spluttered.

  ‘Tag a fairy?’ Julip laughed.

  ‘Hetty’s teasing you,’ said Marvo. He grinned and flexed his muscles. ‘How about a fairy frock for me instead?’

  Hetty was indeed joking, though it took a while for Tag to calm down and be convinced. She made me a new fairy dress instead, patiently sewing hundreds of sequins onto the bodice so that I sparkled in the ring, and she fashioned three forest-green velvet cloaks for the boys that covered them right down to their toes. Here and there she sewed little baubles on the velvet.

  ‘How can we perform in cloaks?’ said Tag.

  ‘You won’t wear them till the end of the act,’ Hetty told him. ‘When you perform the human column.’

  We did not properly understand until the cloaks were all complete and the boys put them on. When Julip was standing on Marvo and Tag on Julip, their cloaks hung down, glittering with baubles. They looked for all the world like a Christmas tree. Then I clambered up, the fairy on the topmost branch.

  It was a Christmas show to be proud of. We played to full houses. For Christmas week Mr Tanglefield even had us put on an extra morning show. We played Sundays too. The only time we had off was Christmas Day itself, and we were all so bone weary we slept a great deal of it. Mr Tanglefield organized a communal dinner in the big top itself, ordering a gaggle of great roast geese. We each had a huge plateful, with apple sauce and roast potatoes, with beer for the men and wine for the ladies.

  No one felt like getting up the next morning, but Boxing Day was our biggest day of the year, with three sold-out performances. Hetty had a slight cold and a sore throat – Madame Adeline made her salt-water gargles and told her to whisper when she wasn’t in the ring to rest her voice, but Hetty found that very difficult indeed. By the evening performance her voice was almost gone, and she was starting to panic, but Mr Tanglefield himself took her to his wagon and administered a medicinal cocktail of whisky and honey and lemon. I don’t know which component did the trick. Maybe it was just Hetty’s own determination – but she was certainly in particularly fine form that evening.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children and babes in arms,’ she cried out. ‘Welcome to Tanglefield’s Travelling Circus on this very splendid Boxing Day – and have we got a treat for you!’

  We were playing to fine families from all over London. There were carriages lined up in a row at the edge of the common to take them home again. I loved looking at all the little girls in the audience, admiring their satin bows and party frocks and ermine jackets. They were all decked out so prettily, but none had such a splendid blue silk dress as me, none had silver spangles, none had fancy wings.

  When we’d done the big farewell parade at the end, we were waylaid by the eager crowd. We were happy to linger, because they were plying us with all sorts of delicious tributes – chocolates and candy canes and crystallized fruits!

  One solemn young lady in a fur-trimmed blue velvet mantle was staring hard at Hetty. She wore her hair tied back in a long fat pigtail like a bell rope, emphasizing her high forehead. She was gazing so intently, I could see a pulse twitching at her temple. She kept trying to press forward to get nearer to Hetty, but there was such an eager throng around her, this was proving impossible.

  She