Circus of the Unseen (6 page)

‘Rosie,' I said, staring at her neck. The only mark I could see was a tattoo near her collarbone, an anchor with a mermaid coiled around its base, and the words ‘Captain Jack Forever' beneath it. No hole, and not even a cut or a graze where I'd definitely
seen the knife go in. Just that tattoo on her perfectly smooth skin. ‘That looked so real. How did you do it?'

‘A showgirl
never
reveals her secrets.' She smiled. ‘So, where did you find her, Lola?'

‘She was out near the edge. We heard the music and wondered why it was playing. So we went to the edge and found her there. I thought we should come straight here to find Mother.'

A look of horror spread over Scarlet's face. ‘No. That's not right. It's not possible. The carousel was playing? Just now?'

‘She said she came on the carousel, but she was on her own, and she doesn't know who Mother is. She says she doesn't know anything.' Lola scanned the area around the Big Top. ‘Where is Mother?'

‘In the forest with Fabian. There's something going on with the animals.' Scarlet glanced at me as she spoke. ‘Don't know what exactly,' she went on, ‘but he asked her to give him a hand.'

‘I'll take her to the forest, then,' said Lola. It was like I wasn't there.

Scarlet took hold of Lola's shoulders and leaned in really close so their noses were almost touching. ‘The thing is, Lola, if you take her, Mother will know you went too far, and she might be inclined to think you were trying to leave, and you know what would happen then, don't you? You don't want to end up like Freddie, do you?'

Lola looked at her feet and shook her head. ‘I'm nothing like him,' she murmured. ‘We weren't trying to leave. We really weren't. Don't tell Mother we were, will you?' Her voice was loud and pleading now. ‘Because we weren't. We'd never do that.
Never
.'

‘That's not what it looks like. Let me handle this. She can wait at my place. Mother will come for her. She'll know something's not right. Besides, it's nearly time for sundown. Mother will be back for that, won't she?'

‘I'll go. Let me find her,' I said. I couldn't stand it any longer, the way they were all treating me like
I
was the freak. ‘I mean, if she's the only one who can help me, I'll just find her myself. Or do you have a phone? I just need to know how to get home, that's all. Please.' My voice cracked.

‘I don't know what's going on, but getting worked up won't help anyone. Calm down, kid. You're coming home with me, for now. I'll take care of you until Mother comes.'

Seeing as that was the closest thing I'd had to an offer of help since I'd got here, I went with her. What else could I do?

Scarlet's home was a curvy-roofed wagon, set back from a river, beneath a cluster of willow trees. From the outside it looked like a fortuneteller's den. Her name was swirled across the side, curled around a life-size painting of her standing astride a horse. I guessed being able to survive a Wheel of Death wasn't her only circus skill. And then I saw the horse, just to the side of the wagon. It was a shiny, russet creature, really elegant and docile-looking, but still, I kept my distance from it.

Scarlet ushered me up the steps and through the door. Inside, it reminded me of an old theatre that had seen better days. Velvet drapes sagged from the ceiling and one wall was entirely covered with mismatched mirrors. She hitched up her skirts and settled in the middle of the room on a heap of cushions.

‘We just need to sit tight until Mother comes,' she said. ‘Shouldn't be long.'

So we sat in silence, her watching my every move. Eventually, I suggested again that I could go and find this Mother woman myself, but Scarlet said it would be dark soon and I'd have no chance of finding anything, so I really should stay here. I'd lost all sense of time. It was nighttime when I was in the graveyard, and she was talking about it getting dark again. Was this already my second night away from home? I had no idea, and then I started to panic about what Mum and Dad were thinking, and how I was going to get back to them. We both jumped when we heard someone coming up the steps.

‘See, what did I tell you? That'll be Mother Matushka. She'll know what to do, she'll know why it's happened.' I think both our hearts sank when we saw it was Lola. ‘Did you speak to Mother?' Scarlet asked. ‘What does she want me to do? Is she on her way over?'

‘I haven't seen her. Maybe she's still with Fabian. But I fetched some of the soup for the girl.'

‘What the hell's keeping her? And sundown is late, isn't it? But I reckon the soup is a good idea, thank you, Lola. Here you go, girl.' Scarlet handed me the bowl. ‘One helping of this will fill you for all eternity. Matushka's broth is good for the body, but even better for the soul. It's what all new arrivals have. Now eat it all up while I have a word with Lola.'

The dollops of brown sludge didn't look at all appetising, and there were bones bobbing beneath the surface, but it smelled really good and I realised how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten a thing since I'd made breakfast for Mum and me and that was  …  I don't know. It was ages ago. I tried a drop. It tasted far better than it looked, and even better than it smelled. By the time Scarlet came back, I'd wolfed it all down, except for the greasy bones. She came right up to me and pushed back the hair from my forehead. Her hands were trembling.

‘It
is
blood!' she gasped. And, actually, it wasn't just her hands that were trembling; her whole body was, and her voice. ‘Lola was right. You shouldn't be here, girl. You really shouldn't.' She wiped her fingers on her skirts, like she thought I might have something contagious.

‘I know,' I said, under my breath. ‘I feel exactly the same.'

‘And what did you do to the marsh? How did you do it?'

I didn't understand why they kept going on about the marsh. I mean, almost drowning was obviously one of the worst things I'd ever experienced, but it wasn't like I'd actually done anything. ‘You know what?' I said. ‘I just tried not to drown. I tried really damn hard not to drown, and I didn't. I was lucky. There's no mystery to it. What about you and the knife? It was right in your neck. How did you do that?'

Scarlet charged to the door. She clearly wasn't going to reveal any of her secrets. And then I wondered if that's what they were thinking about me and the marsh – that it was a weird circus trick they'd never seen before.

‘Where the hell is Mother?' She scanned the area outside the wagon, then turned back to me. ‘You should get cleaned up before she gets here. I'll draw a bath.'

After making several trips to and from the river with a bucket, Scarlet pulled back a screen to reveal a tub full of steaming water. I don't know how she'd heated it, unless the river was actually a hot spring. Maybe I shouldn't have been thinking about how nice it would be to lie down and get everything out of my head for a few minutes. Maybe I should have just made a run for it, but the truth was, I felt completely exhausted and had a pounding headache and a bath seemed like a good idea.

‘Jump in,' she said. ‘Jump in and scrub off all that blood and marsh-mud.'

I pulled the screen across, peeled off the dirty nightdress and plunged into the water. After lying there a few minutes, letting the warm water do its work, I began to relax and my headache eased.

‘How long do you stay in each place you visit?' I asked, wondering what it would be like to travel around all the time, and not have a permanent home. ‘Were you all born into it?'

‘We don't move, girl. People come to us, and no one is born here. That's not how it works.' She stuck her head round the screen. ‘So you really don't know
anything
about this place? What exactly happened before the girls found you?'

In the time it took me to tell her the exact same thing I'd told the sisters, all the good the bath had done was undone and I was itching with panic again. ‘Why do I have to wait for this Mother person? Why can't I just leave?'

‘There's not exactly a road out, same way there's not exactly a road in.' She handed me a towel and clean nightdress. ‘And I can't have you wandering around out there. Need to keep an eye on you, don't I? Dry yourself and get some rest. Up you go. Bed. Sleep. I'll wake you when Mother comes.'

I was too tired to argue so I climbed the ladder up to the bed, holding my doll. It was basically a mattress and heap of cushions on top of what looked like a cupboard, but it was really cosy, especially when Scarlet tucked me in. I hadn't been tucked in for years.

‘What a darling charm,' she said. ‘Real rubies?'

I touched my neck. ‘It was my grandmother's. She died.' It still hurt to say it aloud. It still made the tears swell and my throat close up, and I still wasn't good at hiding it.

‘I don't know what the hell you're doing here, but you're still just a child, aren't you? You are, aren't you?' she repeated, like she was trying to convince herself that's all I was. ‘Don't cry, girl There's plenty who don't make it to grandmahood, and there's plenty of girls who never know their grandmas. If I were you, I'd think of how lucky she was to have become one, and how lucky I was to have met her. No point ruining your life over death, is there? That's a lesson best learned early. Now rest. Things always seem better when you wake up. Well, they
usually
do. Now close your eyes.'

The way Scarlet was babbling and staring at the cut on my head made it clear she wasn't sure that things really would be better when I woke, but I was too shattered to do anything else right then. My body curled itself up and I closed my eyes.

Mother Matushka was old, a sallow bag of bones. She'd seen everything with those sharp eyes, done everything with those sinewy hands. You didn't get to her age without knowing a thing or two.
Older than the earth, and stronger than it too
, she affirmed to herself as she made her way back through the forest to the Big Top. She could see the torches around it now, flickering wildly in the airstreams her performers were making. They'd be wondering where she was. She was already late drawing down the light and releasing them to their rest. The animals had settled, eventually, but would they stay calm? And why had it taken two of them? That wasn't usually the case. Had the Fabulous Fabianski lost a little of his fabulousness? Or was it something else? For the first time in her existence Mother Matushka did not have the answer.

She came to the edge of the valley and looked out over the Big Top, its red-and-white skin stretched tight over the bones of its frame. She raised her arms – scrawny wings with flaps of skin in place of feathers – and snapped her fingers. One by one, the torches extinguished and the performers stopped what they were doing and lay down for the night.

Next, she performed the drawing down of light. She pulled her arms to her sides, slow and calm, and the Circus of the Unseen became as unseen to those inside as it was to those outside.

The joints of Matushka's skinny legs grated as she made her way home, but she moved as nimbly as a girl. She came to her cottage and sparked up flames on her fence-posts. She called for her wolves, and she sent them out to guard the seals around her circus. Once again, she raised her arms to the sky. Then she lowered them, and a stream of birds slipped from the sleeves of her cloak. Their black feathers shimmered purple and green as they crashed into each other, spiralling and lurching in all directions. Matushka outlined a path in the sky with a finger, the same path, over and over again, until the birds followed her invisible trail. They looped around the cottage, then she slowed them, and she drew them down.

They followed her inside, and while they settled in the rafters, cooing and scratching and fluffing their feathers, Mother Matushka went to her hearth to seal all around it. She scattered soil, and then salt, and pressed down hard, to close any gaps, to keep things contained, for that's what she did, for that's how it must be.

Then she lay down by the fire to rest, but she tossed and turned. She flailed and thrashed. She itched with the sense that something wasn't right. She got up and squinted into the pot hanging over the hearth, and she saw that some of her soup was missing. It was always on the boil here, simmering over the fire, ready to nourish those newcomers who would stay and make this their home. She was no fool. It was always replenished to the same amount, maintained to the same volume, so it was obvious some had gone. Only a bowlful, but theft was theft and all the worse because there was no reason to steal it. Everyone was fed all they needed when they first came into her charge. No one
needed
more. And what child would take from their mother? While Matushka had birthed no children of her own, she was mother to many. She was mother to everyone here. All their lives revolved around her, all paths led to her cottage, all water came from her lake and her river, and she knew everything there was to know. Or so she'd thought. She did not know about the animals, and now the missing soup. For the second time in her existence Mother Matushka did not have an answer. She scattered more salt and earth and tried, again, to rest.