Diamond Read online

  ‘Circus folk are supposed to look young and strong and spry, whatever kind of artiste they are,’ said Tag.

  ‘That’s not true,’ I said. ‘Look at Mr Marvel. He’s really, really old. It doesn’t matter a jot.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that,’ said Tag. ‘And I’d worry about your precious Madame Adeline – she’s so long in the tooth she’s been performing since Tanglefield’s pa was in charge. I reckon she’s for the chop.’

  ‘I’ll chop you!’ I said, clenching my fists together and hitting him on the head.

  I was so angry and struck Tag so hard, he actually ran away from me, which made Marvo and Julip laugh.

  THERE WAS NO laughing when the new folk arrived that afternoon. The whole company gathered silently, strained and tense. A blue and yellow wagon arrived first, the horse driven by a spry-looking man in his twenties.

  ‘Do you think he’s an acrobat?’ asked Julip.

  ‘No, he hasn’t got the right physique,’ said Marvo.

  ‘He looks like a real showman. Maybe he’s a new ringmaster!’ said Mister, nodding his head at Hetty.

  ‘Perhaps he’s a clown,’ she retorted.

  ‘I doubt it – he’s much too young,’ said Marvo. He was meaning to be comforting, but Beppo quivered.

  ‘Perhaps he’s a trainer,’ said Tag. ‘He’ll have an animal act. That horse pulling the wagon looks in good condition. Maybe he’s an equestrian.’

  Hetty and I both held our breath, though the horse was old and took a long time to pull the wagon neatly into place.

  ‘That man’s no horse-trainer. He can’t even control that old nag,’ said Mr Marvel. ‘Besides, there’s only one wagon. His animals won’t tuck up in his bed at night, will they?’

  Oh, poor dear Mr Marvel! When the man had unharnessed his horse and waved airily to the watching crowd, he opened the door of his wagon and two dark heads peeped out.

  ‘Allow me to present Miss Daffodil and Mr Cornflower,’ the man shouted.

  Two strange, chunky creatures came ambling out, clapping their hands. At first glance I thought they were very swarthy, stocky children, for Daffodil wore a bright yellow frilled frock with matching stockings and black patent boots, while Cornflower sported a little blue sailor suit and wore a jaunty cap with an embroidered anchor on his head. But then I blinked and realized they were enormous monkeys, giant versions of Mr Marvel’s tiny, spindly babies.

  ‘Chimpanzees,’ Mr Marvel whispered, and his face crumpled.

  ‘They are very ugly and cumbersome – nowhere near as nice as our monkeys, Mr Marvel,’ I said, taking hold of his hand. ‘And I’m sure they can’t perform such clever tricks.’

  But the new man said loudly, ‘Run and introduce yourselves to all these nice new folks, Daffodil and Cornflower.’

  Daffodil held out her frilly yellow skirts and bobbed the most comical of curtsies, while Cornflower took off his sailor cap and bowed low. Then they hopped and skipped about the crowd on all fours, but stood up straight and offered a paw to anyone who took their fancy.

  Daffodil offered her paw to me. I worried about hurting Mr Marvel’s feelings, but I couldn’t help grasping the strange big brown paw. Daffodil chattered happily in her own language, clearly saying she was pleased to be acquainted. She was equally polite to everyone.

  Cornflower was far cheekier. He held out his hand, but always snatched it away before anyone could take hold of it, and then he cheeped with laughter, smacking his lips. He took especial liberties with Mr Tanglefield, running up to him and then punching him lightly in the stomach.

  Mr Tanglefield was a slight man, but he had a pronounced pot belly. It was rumoured that he had to wear a tight corset to fit decently into his riding breeches. He was very self-conscious about his figure and struggled to hold his stomach in when he thought people were watching. It was therefore doubly comical for Cornflower to single out this part of his anatomy. We all spluttered, keeping our faces as straight as possible, because no one wanted to be seen openly laughing at Mr Tanglefield, particularly when he hadn’t confirmed who was to accompany him on the new tour, and who was to be left behind. But Mr Tanglefield himself burst out laughing, in a high-pitched, squeaky voice.

  ‘Very comical, Mr Benger. You have trained your monkeys well,’ he said.

  ‘Excuse me, sir, my two children are of the chimpanzee species, not commonplace little monkeys,’ said their trainer.

  Mr Marvel winced. His eyes were watering and he looked every one of his eighty or ninety years, but he stood as straight as he could, and said with simple dignity, ‘I gather my services will therefore no longer be required, Mr Tanglefield.’

  Everyone turned to Mr Tanglefield. He had the grace to look away uncomfortably.

  ‘I think we both know you’re a bit past it, Marvel. Beats me how you’ve kept going all these years. But I think it’s best to go now. Don’t look so down-hearted. I’ll make you an offer for those monkeys of yours. I dare say Benger can work them into his act. We’ll give you a tidy little sum – it’ll pay your rent for many months.’

  Mr Marvel’s fists clenched. ‘You must be mad if you think I could ever sell my babies. I’d sooner sleep in the gutter so long as they could be there with me. But I won’t need to resort to such desperate measures, thank you very much. I have a very snug little cottage in the country that’s been waiting for me to occupy it for many a year. I’ll be off first thing in the morning.’

  ‘Oh, Mr Marvel!’ I said, and I threw myself upon him. ‘I can’t bear it! I shall miss you so.’

  ‘I will too, more than anything,’ Hetty declared. She looked at Mr Tanglefield, quivering with emotion. ‘How can you be so heartless? Why can’t Mr Marvel and his monkeys keep their act? You can have two monkey acts! That would surely be a great novelty?’

  ‘Great liability,’ said Mr Tanglefield. ‘We don’t want old dodderers as part of the show. It sounds brutal, but it’s business. Marvel’s been past it for years. He can’t even control his monkeys any more. Look at all the palaver when the little one escaped and held us all up for hours.’

  ‘That was my fault, not Mr Marvel’s!’ I cried.

  ‘Be silent, both of you!’ he shouted. ‘I don’t run this show as a charity and I don’t need shrill children to tell me how to do my work. All right, Marvel, I’ll sort out the wages you’ve got owing by tonight, with a bonus for your long-term engagement. Then you can leave in the morning when we do. Now, don’t just stand there, everyone. I’m sure you’ve got work to do.’

  I hung onto Mr Marvel, starting to cry. He patted me gently on the head. He seemed very calm, but I could feel him trembling.

  ‘I’ll miss you so very much, Mr Marvel – and I’ll miss my Mavis too, and all the other monkeys.’

  ‘We’ll all miss you, little Diamond bright. But don’t grieve for me. I’ve had a long and happy life in the circus but I can’t deny I’m getting old. Now it really is time for me to go.’

  It was heart-breaking – but this wasn’t the worst surprise on that dreadful day. Mr Tanglefield had insisted we leave a very large space beside his own wagon. We waited and waited to see who the newcomers were going to be. Then, just as folk were starting to cook their suppers, we heard the sound of a rumbling wagon and horses’ hooves.

  It was a very grand wagon, at least twice the usual size, drawn by four beautiful horses – three chestnuts and one grey.

  Madame Adeline’s head jerked and she stared at them, stricken.

  ‘It’s all right, Madame Adeline. I’m sure they’re just pulling the wagon,’ Hetty said hurriedly, though we could all see these were fine horses in the peak of condition.

  We looked at the man holding the reins. He was tall and fit, and wore a strange broad-brimmed hat, a checked shirt, tightly cut trousers and astonishing studded boots.

  ‘He’s a cowboy!’ said Julip, in awe. ‘Like Wild Bill Hickok!’

  ‘An equestrian,’ said Madame Adeline, and closed her eyes.

  ‘But