Emerald Star (Hetty Feather) Read online

  ‘What the hell do you want?’ he said, glaring at me. He had his riding whip in one hand, which seemed very ominous. I still wanted to run but I forced myself to stand my ground, my head held high. I made myself smile.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mr Tanglefield. Might I have a few private words with you? I feel it will be greatly to your benefit,’ I said.

  20

  MR TANGLEFIELD STARED at me as if I were talking a foreign language. He took a small step backwards. I accepted this as an invitation and darted into his wagon.

  Mr Tanglefield’s wagon was twice the size of Madame Adeline’s, but it seemed more cramped inside. He had any number of chairs and sofas and tables and desks, all strewn with handbills and receipts and account books. There were unwashed cups and glasses on every surface, and ashtrays brimming with cigar ash and stubs. The smell of smoke was thick and stale, and his paintwork had acquired a dingy brown-yellow sheen.

  It was an effort not to start scurrying round like a housemaid putting the wagon to rights. I looked around for an empty chair, and eventually stayed standing, clutching my new garment and borrowed hat.

  ‘Well?’ said Mr Tanglefield.

  ‘Please, sir, I’d like to join your circus,’ I said, deciding to come straight out with it.

  He stared at me and then laughed. It was not a merry sound. ‘Get out. You’re wasting my time,’ he said. ‘You’re a country girl. You have to be brought up in the circus to be truly skilled.’

  ‘Oh, I totally agree, sir. I cannot tumble or walk the tightrope or ride bareback and I don’t have a knack with animals. But I have other skills that could be immensely useful to you. I am a professional seamstress, for a start. I can work magic with a few scraps of material. Your star turns are magnificent, sir, but I couldn’t help noticing that their costumes are a little shabby. I could sew fine new frocks for the ladies and fashion the prettiest little outfits for your child star Diamond. I would not confine myself to costumes for your human stars. I feel the animals would benefit too.’

  ‘You’re going to put jackets and breeches on my lions and bears?’ said Mr Tanglefield, going to his mirror and continuing with his blacking.

  ‘Oh, very droll, sir,’ I said. ‘No, of course not, but I feel the troupe of performing monkeys could indeed sport little costumes. The smallest one already wears a doll’s dress in the ring, but it’s a little bedraggled. Think how charming it would look in baby clothes, with the rest of the troupe dressed in style, the males in jackets, pinstripe trousers and miniature bowler hats and the little furry ladies in long frocks and mantles and dainty bonnets. They would look adorable. Children would love them and beg to come back again and again to see the little monkey people.’

  Mr Tanglefield paused in his blacking. He stared at me in his mirror.

  ‘And then there’s Elijah,’ I said. ‘I’m not sure if you have any idea how exciting it is for country children to see such a fabulous beast. I remember simply encountering Elijah as one of the most amazing incidents of my childhood – spotting his great head high above the hedges as he plodded along to the meadows. But I think you could make him look even more exotic and extraordinary!’

  ‘Now I know you’re mad,’ said Mr Tanglefield. ‘What kind of apparel do you have in mind for my elephant? A frock coat, and gaiters on each foot?’

  ‘You’re quick with your quips, sir – but I beg you to take me seriously. It’s sad to see Elijah act the clown in the ring. It takes away his dignity. Why not be true to his Indian origins? Deck him in jewelled cloth and paint his great head. Attire your good self in the robes of an eastern prince, in rich hues of scarlet and gold and purple. Then when you ride into the ring, everyone will gasp at the spectacle.’

  Mr Tanglefield turned round, taking me seriously at last. He held out an arm as if imagining it clothed in scarlet silk. ‘You could fashion such a garment?’ he said.

  ‘Sir, strange garments are my speciality. I fashioned the costumes for the world-famous Clarendon’s Seaside Curiosities. Once you’ve dressed a female giant and clothed a mermaid, tail and all, you know you can tackle any project.’ I paused, then lowered my voice to what I hoped was a beguiling whisper. ‘You would cut a fine figure in such a costume, sir – and your hair would be entirely hidden beneath your turban, rendering all cosmetic disguises unnecessary.’ I gave a discreet little nod at the shoe blacking.

  ‘But I can hardly stay in eastern costume while I am ringmaster,’ said Mr Tanglefield.

  ‘I think it is a little beneath you, sir, to have to act as ringmaster when you own the entire circus and the most exotic act. After you have taken Elijah through his paces you should recline elegantly on a little gold throne in front of the band, presiding over the circus. When every turn comes tumbling into the ring, they should bow to you first before commencing their act. It would give you such regal authority, don’t you think?’

  I swept him a low bow myself so he could see what I meant. He couldn’t help smirking and standing straighter, snapping his braces into place. But then he frowned again.

  ‘But someone needs to announce each act properly,’ he said.

  ‘Exactly, sir!’ I said triumphantly. ‘Allow me to show you who I have in mind!’

  I shook out my red garment and put it on. It made a fine riding coat. I had worked golden frogging across the chest. I tucked up my skirts until they were invisible. Mr Tanglefield gasped when I exposed my legs, but they were decently covered in Madame Adeline’s white tights, which made them look very shapely. I stuck the black stovepipe hat on my head and stood with one hand on my hip, my chin in the air.

  ‘Allow me to present my very own self. I am Emerald Star, ringmaster supreme,’ I said. ‘Once funds permit I will sport a proper top hat and riding boots. Meanwhile you will have to picture them in place. I shall present all your acts, Mr Tanglefield, in the following manner.’

  I took a deep breath, filling my lungs. ‘Ladies and gentlemen!’ I bellowed, making Mr Tanglefield blink and step backwards. I had no need of his tinny loudhailer. My voice was loud enough to circle any tent. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, little children and babes in arms – take heed! You are about to see sights that will dazzle your eyes and delight your hearts. Here is the amazing, magnificent and ultra-marvellous Tanglefield’s Travelling Circus, come trekking cross-country to perform twice daily in your very own village. May I present to you Mr Tanglefield himself, in the guise of an Indian sultan. Gaze at him in awe and wonder on his extraordinary exotic beast, Elijah the performing elephant. Wave your long trunk at all the children, Elijah – and they will give you a loud cheer.’ I paused momentarily, and then continued, ‘Oh, prepare to hold your sides and squeal with laughter at the comical antics of our two clowning gentlemen, Mr Chino and Mr Beppo. Better duck now, ladies and gentlemen in the front row. You’re in danger of getting a bucket of water thrown all over you. Do you want to see Mama and Papa having a public wash, little children? Shout now if the answer’s yes!’

  I worked my way through every single act. I waxed particularly enthusiastic over our child acrobat, the tiny sparkly Diamond, little more than a baby, yet already the star of our show. I saved my greatest praise for Madame Adeline, the empress of the equine world, magnificent on her glossy stallion Midnight, here to delight you with her grace, her agility and her dancing.

  Then I summoned all the acts to parade around the ring, instructing my imaginary audience to applaud until their palms stung. I led the clapping myself, stamping my feet too, while Mr Tanglefield slumped back in his chair, his mouth open.

  ‘There!’ I said, twirling round. ‘Do you see, Mr Tanglefield, sir?’

  ‘Yes, I see,’ he said, blinking as if dazzled. ‘What did you say your name was, girl?’

  ‘I am Emerald Star,’ I said. ‘A name you won’t forget again.’

  ‘That’s true enough,’ said Mr Tanglefield. ‘Well, run along and let me prepare for tonight’s performance.’

  ‘What? But – but, sir, I entreat you