Diamond Read online

  ‘Run! Run, Diamond!’ Hetty cried, tugging me desperately – but Mr Tanglefield cracked his whip in our direction, and she screamed as it caught her on the tip of the ear, making her double up, clutching her head.

  ‘Stop that! You can’t whip a child!’ Cowboy Jonny shouted.

  ‘Get him, Sammy, Honey, Joe!’ cried Lucky Heather, snapping her fingers. The dogs all leaped up at Mr Tanglefield and knocked him backwards.

  I pulled at Hetty and she managed to scramble up, still holding her case. We started running desperately into the dark, but there were footsteps behind us, and I heard the hard rasp of Mister’s breath and the swish of that terrible stick. He was horribly light on his feet, and gaining on both of us. Suddenly I felt his hand on my shoulder and I yelled out in terror – but then he fell away, landing with a great thump on the ground.

  I turned round and saw that someone had leaped on him and tumbled him over, someone else was clutching at him, and a third was trying to hold him down. My three silver brothers!

  ‘Run, Diamond! This is your chance!’

  So I ran and Hetty ran, both of us sobbing and gasping, but Mister was up again, screaming at us, and Mr Tanglefield too, and we knew they could both outrun us. But then Hetty darted sideways and started pulling at some large heavy object lying on its side by the big top. The penny-farthing!

  ‘Quick, quick, Diamond! I’ll get on the saddle and you scramble up and sit on my shoulders!’ she gasped.

  She wedged the case in front of her against the handlebars, and I clawed my way up until I was sitting on top of her, clutching her hair.

  ‘You can balance, I know you can!’ Hetty cried, and she started pedalling furiously.

  The penny-farthing wavered and wobbled, and I thought we might fall straight off, but Hetty steered frantically, and suddenly we were off in a rush. I had to grip hard with my thighs and tuck my toes into her armpits, but my legs were as strong as steel from all my practising. I could cling to her easily – and she pedalled and pedalled and pedalled.

  We raced along the path across the meadow, and although we could still hear furious shouts behind us, they were getting more and more distant. At the edge of the meadow we had a moment’s terrible panic, because the gates were locked, but we jumped off and somehow hauled the great machine over the railings, and then shinned up ourselves and were over them too.

  We struggled back onto the penny-farthing, and Hetty pedalled faster and faster along the smooth empty pavements, on and on and on, until we were right through the little town and out the other side. We still couldn’t rest. We rode along country lanes and tiny byways until we reached the next town, miles away from the circus.

  Then we did at last topple down from the penny-farthing. We lay spread-eagled on the dusty pavement, stretching our aching limbs.

  ‘We’ve done it, Diamond! We’ve actually done it! We’ve run away!’ Hetty cried. She gave a great whoop, her throat clearly better now.

  ‘And my lovely silver brothers helped us – and Cowboy Jonny and Lucky Heather too!’

  ‘I wonder if those dogs have eaten old Tanglefield!’

  ‘I hope they go and give Mister a good bite too!’

  We started giggling hysterically and found we couldn’t stop. Hetty actually drummed her boots on the ground she was laughing so much. Then she rubbed her ear and yelped. ‘I’m bleeding where that beast whipped me!’ she said indignantly.

  ‘I think I’m bleeding a bit too, from my sore head. And my wrist aches. And I’m very thirsty,’ I said.

  ‘Oh dear, we’re in a right old state! Come on, then, let’s try and find you a drink somewhere.’

  There was a horse trough nearby, but Hetty wouldn’t let me drink from that. We walked down the road to a little market square, Hetty pushing the cycle and lugging the suitcase.

  ‘A drinking fountain!’ she cried triumphantly, and we both had a great iron mugful of cold water.

  There were stalls in the market, empty and covered with cloth, but Hetty searched in the gutters and found two bruised apples, a squashed tomato and several old carrots.

  ‘There! Just think of this as a very early breakfast,’ she said as we leaned against a hoarding and munched eagerly.

  ‘Hetty – you know we’ve run away?’ I said.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, where are we running to?’ I asked.

  Hetty went on chewing a carrot thoughtfully. ‘I – I don’t really know!’ she said.

  ‘Oh. Well . . . shall we try and make our way to Madame Adeline? I’m sure she would welcome us, and Mr Marvel wouldn’t really mind, would he?’

  ‘We could go there. We well might at some point – but perhaps it’s not fair to expect them to look after us.’

  ‘I don’t think we can go back to my home, not unless Pa’s changed his mind about me,’ I said, a little sadly.

  ‘No, of course we’re not going there, Diamond. And I’m not going to drag us all the way up to Yorkshire and my pa, though I’d love you to meet him some time. Now, let me try and think of the best thing we can do.’

  For several minutes Hetty was quiet. I tried to wait patiently, but I was getting anxious.

  ‘I think I know where,’ I said at last. ‘We should go back to your country home. To your old sweetheart, Jem. He would be glad to see you, Hetty, and maybe he wouldn’t mind me coming too.’

  ‘He’s not my sweetheart any more, Diamond. He might well be married to someone else by now. I know he would still welcome us both into his house – but I don’t want to feel dependent on anyone else, not now. I want to stay an artiste, earning my own living.’

  ‘Then must we join another circus?’ I asked.

  ‘No, I think we’ve both seen enough of circus life. But there must be some other way we could be performers, you and me. I know! I’ll ask Mama!’

  She said it as if her mama were standing right beside us. I couldn’t help looking round, though I knew that Hetty’s mama was dead.

  Hetty put her hand to her heart and closed her eyes. She looked ghostly pale in the lamplight. I fidgeted nervously. I saw her lips move as if she were whispering, but I couldn’t hear a sound.

  Then she opened her eyes and smiled at me.

  ‘Did she have a suggestion?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, Mama was a little cryptic, as usual. She told me to look all about me,’ said Hetty.

  She whirled round and round, her head back, clearly looking. I looked too. I could only see the market place.

  ‘Do you think she wants us to have a market stall?’ I said.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Hetty. ‘Though I’d be quite good at selling things.’

  She suddenly stopped and stared at the poster on the hoarding we’d been leaning against. It was an advertisement with lots of swirly writing, so fancy that I couldn’t read any of it.

  Hetty stabbed at it excitedly. ‘Look, Diamond! It’s an advertisement for the Cavalcade – I think it’s a music hall. These are all the artistes: Lily Lark, the Sweetest Song Thrush, Peter Perkin and His Comical Capers, Sven, the Russian Sword-swallower, Araminta, the Exotic Acrobatic Dancer! They’re all performers, Diamond, just like us! And . . . oh my goodness!’ She was squinting at the smallest names right at the bottom of the bill. ‘It can’t be! Well I never!’

  ‘What, Hetty?’

  ‘There’s a performer called Little Flirty Bertie. Could it be my Bertie, I wonder? He always said he wanted to do a music-hall turn, calling his act Flirty Bertie. Well, we shall find out! I know what we’re going to do, little Diamond. We’re going to take to the boards and be music-hall artistes!’

  About the Author

  JACQUELINE WILSON is an extremely well-known and hugely popular author who served as Children’s Laureate from 2005-7. She has been awarded a number of prestigious awards, including the British Children’s Book of the Year and the Guardian Children’s Fiction Award (for The Illustrated Mum), the Smarties Prize and the Children’s Book Award (for Double Act, for which she was