The Girl Who Walked on Air (5 page)

So Chipchase’s Travelling Circus had a showstopper once more. It took some getting used to. Yet my dreams hadn’t changed because of Gabriel Swift, or ‘The Great Fun Ambler’ as he was now known. If anything it made things clearer.

The next day wasn’t a moving on day, so there was time to practise. Pip and me got up at dawn. Once I’d seen to all the horses, I grabbed my rope and headed to the river. On the edge of our camp sat Gabriel’s small green tent. I tiptoed past, trying hard not to think of him asleep inside. It felt better to dislike him; that way things stayed simpler in my head.

Down at the river’s edge a mist hung over the water. The stone bridge leading to the village curved prettily from bank to bank. It looked fairy-tale magical, a day for being brave and fighting off villains. Not that Gabriel was a villain exactly – more of a fly in my soup. And his lack of tricks on the tightrope had given me a plan.

It took longer than usual to set up the rope. Finally, after a hot half-hour of climbing trees, I stood back to admire my handiwork.
Pip gave a little high-pitched yelp. It
was his way of saying he liked it too
.
The rope went from one bank to the other. It ran fifteen feet above the water, slightly higher on the left than the right. The distance looked about forty feet across. I’d never walked over a river before. It was a smart-looking trick indeed.

Could I do it?

The sun shone through the trees, making the river’s surface twinkle like hundreds of gold sovereigns.

Could I
really
do it?

There was only one way to find out.

Spreading my shawl on the bank, I told Pip to lie down on it. He pretended not to hear, until I gave him a bread crust. ‘Good boy,’ I said, fussing his ears. ‘Now stay right there and watch.’

I climbed the tree once more. The bark scraped my hands and bare feet. For a moment, I couldn’t find the blasted rope. Then, there it was. I pulled myself into position, and inched along it. I kept one hand on the tree trunk until I found my balance.

My heart steadied. I focused up ahead. Emptied my thoughts. Now it was just me and a long, thin stretch of rope. My feet tingled. I let go of the tree and walked forwards.

A few steps out, I felt a breeze against my cheek. The rope began to sway. I bent my knees, moved my arms just a little, and kept looking forwards. Another few steps and the rope went quiet. The stillness of it made me brave. Halfway across I crouched down, dangling my leg just like Gabriel had done, and peered at the river below.

After a bit, I got to my feet, but the balance wasn’t right. Gabriel had lifted one foot to steady himself; it was a tip I knew well. Doing it now, I grew still again all down my back and into my legs. When I was ready I took a step. And another.

Before I knew it I’d reached the other side.

Grinning like a lunatic I let out a great ‘WHOOP!’, which frightened a bird from the tree. Below on the bank, Pip blinked sleepily.

‘What d’you think of that, then?’ I said to him.

He yawned.

‘Ta very much, Pip!’

It made me laugh, but only a bit. For it wasn’t enough, not anymore. I wanted cheering and clapping and faces grinning back at me. I wanted music and fireworks. I wanted sensational headlines of the kind Blondin got. The bigger the crowd, the better.

Yet my
only
crowd so far had been Pip and Ned. And one of them was in a sulk with me. The other was half asleep.

Crossing back over the river was easy enough. My feet had the measure of the rope now. That stillness stayed strong all down my back and I felt sure I wouldn’t wobble. Once I reached the middle, I walked backwards. I sat down and stood up again, and stretched out my arms and one leg like a ballerina. But when I got to the other side I didn’t want to stop.

So I set off back across the rope. I went faster now, twirling my arms above my head, and turning once, twice, three times, before stepping onwards. I felt so sure, so calm. It was heaven.

Suddenly, from the riverbank, Pip started barking. Sharp manic barks they were. I tried to shut it out but he kept going. Without thinking, I turned round, too fast, too off balance. My feet slipped.

I hit the water with a thwack. One moment I was completely under, the next I’d bobbed up again like a cork. My mouth filled with water. Spluttering and cussing, I swam for the bank. What a fool I’d been to practise here. Thank heck no one had seen me.

I’d almost reached the bank when I stopped dead. At eye level I saw a pair of feet, done up in decent brown shoes. Uneasily, I looked upwards.

‘Hullo Louie,’ said a smart-sounding voice.

Gabriel Swift stood on the bank.

I sank back into the water.
Drat! Drat! Drat!

There was no point in hiding; so I stood up. Jasper’s old tunic stuck to me like skin. As I tugged at the fabric it made slurping noises like an animal farting. Not that Gabriel appeared to notice.

‘Sorry about my cap,’ he said.

‘Cap? What . . . cap?’

He held up a cloth object. ‘Your dog took against it.’ And he
actually laughed.

Well, it wasn’t funny to me. ‘Pip doesn’t like strangers,’ I said, which was obviously a lie since he was laying at Gabriel’s feet, paws in the air as Gabriel tickled his tummy. ‘Especially strangers who sneak about at the crack of dawn.’

Gabriel’s hand slowed. ‘It’s not a crime to get up early,’ he said.

Grabbing at the grass, I heaved myself out of the river. Gabriel didn’t offer to help. Not that I’d have accepted it. I wanted to be as far away from him as possible.

Up on the bank, I reached for my shawl. ‘Come on, you,’ I said to Pip. ‘We’re going home.’

He shut his eyes blissfully as Gabriel carried on stroking him. It was like I didn’t exist.

‘Get
up
, Pip! Come on!’ As I went to grab his collar Gabriel stopped me.

‘You’re a funambulist too,’ he said, as if he’d spoken of the weather.

‘And you’re the
Great
Fun Ambler,’ I shot back.

‘Yes, but why on earth did Mr Chipchase hire me when he’s already got you?’

I pulled my shawl tight around me.
Was he joking?
Something told me he wasn’t, that he wanted to talk. Suddenly, it seemed, so did I.

‘Those stupid do-gooders ruined my chances,’ I said. ‘So now Pip and me do a buffer act and we’re useless. At the rate we’re going I’ll soon have no job at all.’

‘Have you told him you can walk the tightrope?’

‘’Course I have! But he turned me down flat. Says no one wants to see children doing tricks anymore.’

‘Poppycock! You’d be worth the risk.’

I glanced at him sideways. He sounded like he meant it, but I still wasn’t sure. ‘But you’ve come from Wellbeloved’s,’ I said. ‘They can afford to be risky.’

Gabriel’s face changed. ‘Wellbeloved’s? That doesn’t count for much.’

‘It does to Mr Chipchase.’

It did to me too. Truth told, I was a bit dazzled by Wellbeloved’s.

‘Why?’ said Gabriel. ‘It’s nothing special, believe me. Half the time he forgets to even pay us. It’s just a bigger show, that’s all.’

‘Try telling Mr Chipchase. He’s got this “thing” about Wellbeloved’s.’

Gabriel’s hand on Pip’s chest went still. ‘What sort of “thing”?’

I shrugged. ‘He sees them as competition, I s’pose.’ Though there were other big circuses out there and he never went on about them.

Gabriel didn’t seem convinced either. He got to his feet. ‘Perhaps I should leave,’ he said. ‘I don’t want any trouble.’

‘Bit late for that,’ I said, then felt I’d been a bit unkind. ‘But I’m sure you’ll bring in the crowds.’

Gabriel fiddled with his cap. ‘Yes. I hope so.’ Then he took a deep breath. ‘Well, whatever Mr Chipchase says, you are good.’

‘
How
good?’ I said, for I was curious despite myself.

‘You’ve got a natural ability. Though for your next big performance, I’d leave the dog at home.’

I glared at him. ‘And what big performances would those be, now you’re here?’

‘I wasn’t mocking you, Louie. I mean it. You do have a talent.’

I dug at the ground with my toe.

‘We could practise together if you like,’ he said.

‘What . . . you . . . and . . . me?’

‘Why not? It’d help us both. Of course, if you’d rather not.’

I could think of a hundred reasons why not. Gabriel Swift had swanned into our circus and stolen my chance right from under my nose. And walking the rope with someone else was bound to be harder.

Still,
I felt strangely excited.

Gabriel knew the tightrope. Lived the tightrope. Just like Blondin. Only unlike Blondin, he wasn’t pictures stuck in a scrapbook. He was here in front of me, talking and breathing and wanting us to train together.

‘Ask me again when I’m dry,’ I said.

Quick as I could I took down the rope. Gabriel helped me hide it in the bushes. Then I whistled for Pip. This time he came, all waggly tailed and happy. Together, we walked back towards the camp. Once we’d rounded the corner and Gabriel was out of sight, I did my own little dance for joy.

Ned was sitting on his wagon steps as I went past. He was wrapped in a blanket, drinking coffee. ‘Should’ve woken me,’ he said, then looked at my wet clothes and grinned. ‘What
have
you been up to?’

So he wasn’t sulking anymore. I grinned back. ‘Brand new tricks.’

Ned glanced over my shoulder. His face hardened.

‘What’s the matter?’ I said.

I turned to see Gabriel going to his tent. It did look a bit of a coincidence, us both arriving back at the showground moments apart.

‘Ned,’ I said in a rush. ‘We were just . . .’

He spoke over me. ‘I’ve been thinking, remember that man yesterday in the village?’

I frowned. ‘What man?’

‘The fancy gent in the carriage.’

‘Oh, him.’

‘He was looking for someone about Gabriel’s age. Said the person walked the tightrope. He was offering a big reward.’

‘So?’

Ned emptied his cup. ‘I wonder if Mr Chipchase knows?’

‘Don’t be daft,’ I said. ‘Gabriel’s a tightrope walker, not a runaway.’

‘If you say so. You’re the expert.’

And he got up and went inside.

The next day we set off for the nearest big town. We’d almost reached it when Mr Chipchase had a sudden change of plan.

‘Keep going till Sharpfield!’ he barked. ‘Drive your horses on!’

I groaned. Sharpfield was another two hours away. I’d suffered enough rough roads for one day. My very bones ached, never mind how Jasper’s must be feeling.

‘Why aren’t we stopping?’ I asked Paolo, whose wagon drew alongside ours.

‘Wellbeloved’s are here. Look.’ He pointed to a glossy poster stuck to a wall. ‘SENSATIONAL!’, ‘DEATH-DEFYING!’, ‘BLOOD-CURDLING!’ it screamed. My heart skipped a beat.

Wellbeloved’s.

That name was like a spell, magical and mysterious. Yet I’d never even clapped eyes on the show itself. Now, at last, we were about to drive past it. Eagerly, I sat up tall in my seat. ‘So where are they?’ I said, seeing nothing nearby but a churchyard and some cottages.

Up ahead, the lead wagons turned off the main road. We were now in a lane. Great hedges towered over us on either side. Any view was blotted out. We were bypassing the town altogether. I slumped down in disappointment. Then I recalled something Gabriel had said. I twisted round in my seat. ‘Thought you said Wellbeloved’s were in America,’ I called to him. He was walking alongside our back wheel, his collar turned up so it hid most of his face.

‘Mr Wellbeloved is going soon, I believe.’ He was frowning again. It didn’t suit him as well as a smile.

‘Oh, I see.’

Except I didn’t. We never ran into other shows. Two circuses in the same town at the same time was pointless. Mr Chipchase planned his stands months ahead so it wouldn’t happen.

‘Jasper’s accident,’ I said out loud. ‘It’s thrown our schedule, ain’t it?’

‘That’ll be it,’ Gabriel said.

Yet it didn’t explain us taking the long way round. Why on earth couldn’t we just ride past Wellbeloved’s stand? We’d be through the town and gone again before they noticed us. What with Gabriel’s change of show name, done to keep Mr Wellbeloved at bay, and now this, it was like we were running away.

As we urged our tired horses into a trot, Mr Chipchase called over his shoulder. ‘Louie, put a blasted hat on!’

‘What for?’

He didn’t hear me. Or maybe he just didn’t want to answer.

Late afternoon we arrived in Sharpfield. The sky was dull grey, the air thick with chimney smoke. We went down streets where all the houses looked the same; row after row of grimy brickwork. On street corners children stared at us with eyes too big for their faces.

Eventually, we took a sharp turn left, through a gateway and into a factory yard. Workers on their break were leaning up against the wall.

‘Showground’s that way,’ said a girl, pointing to another gate.

And she smiled a big, crooked teeth smile. I grinned back. Then the factory horn sounded; break was over, and she looked as grim-faced as everyone else.

I shuddered.
I could be that girl.

If things didn’t improve, I would be.

This past week Mr Chipchase had run out of patience. Tickets still weren’t selling. The Great Dog Detective skit was getting worse. Even Gabriel’s act lacked sparkle. Not long ago, however bad things got, I had hoped that Mr Chipchase would eventually see sense. But now even that chance was fading. He had his tightrope walker; he didn’t need me.

‘We’re not a charity,’ Mr Chipchase said after one particularly bad night.

Put plainly, if I couldn’t earn my way, I’d be out. I heard it clearly behind his words. It made me sick with fear, for without the circus I had nothing. I didn’t think I’d survive. It’d be like pulling a fish from the river and watching it gasp its last on the bank.

Finally, our wagons came to a halt. It was a bit grand to call it a showground. The stand itself was just half an acre of bare ground, surrounded by a wall. One by one, people jumped down from their wagons. I took off the wretched hat and scratched my head. A black cloud seemed to hang over us all.

Mr Chipchase didn’t even get out of his trailer.

‘Just set up!’ he yelled through the window. ‘We’ll not be here longer than a night.’ Then he noticed me. ‘You! Louie! Get over here now!’

I pointed to myself. ‘What? Me?’

Stupid really, there was no other Louie. No one else had been told to wear a hat either, and it now hung limp in my hands.

I climbed the steps of Mr Chipchase’s wagon, expecting an earful.

‘Boots!’ he bellowed.

Kicking them off, I went in. Kitty sat on a low sofa. She looked at me coldly. Mr Chipchase was behind his desk, the accounts book spread open before him like a bible. I stood in front of him.

‘Is this about the hat, sir? Only it itches awful and I don’t see why I had to wear it.’

‘What? Oh, never mind that now.’

His face looked so grave I felt myself sink. This was obviously about more than hats.

‘We have a problem,’ he said.

I swallowed nervously. ‘Oh.’

‘We’re losing money. Faster than I can fathom.’

‘But you’ve got Gabriel now,’ I said. ‘If anyone can bring in the crowds, he can.’

Kitty smirked. I felt myself go pink as Mr Chipchase’s eyebrows shot up.

‘Personally, I’m not entirely convinced by young Master Swift. It’s hard to believe he comes from Wellbeloved’s, a show so notorious for its daring.’

He was right, though it did make me wince. Gabriel’s routine was polished to perfection. But it wasn’t exactly a sensation. It didn’t have that
whiff of death
we needed to bring in the crowds.

‘Anyhow, you’re not here to discuss Gabriel Swift,’ said Mr Chipchase.

He looked down at his accounts and grimaced. Thoughts of Jasper, our wagon and my sorry wage all rushed into my head. My heart gave a hard thump.

‘Gabriel alone isn’t enough to carry this show. Nor are you, Kitty,’ Mr Chipchase said, knocking the smug look off her face. ‘Things need to be different. Starting tonight.’

‘I could do something, sir. With Gabriel, I mean,’ I blurted out.

‘Don’t make me laugh!’ said Kitty.

Mr Chipchase didn’t say anything.

I glared at them both. ‘It ain’t funny! We’re going to start practising together.’

Kitty sneered.

‘If only you’d listen. We could perform together on the high wire, act out a story, that sort of thing. No one else has done it, not even Blondin.’

Mr Chipchase raised his hand for silence.

‘I
can
walk the high wire! I’ve told you I can!’ I cried. ‘Ask Kitty – she’s seen me.’

Most normal people would’ve indeed asked Kitty, whose bottom lip stuck out like a baby’s. Not Mr Chipchase. He rolled his eyes skywards. ‘And I’ve told
you
I won’t allow it.’

‘But Kitty knows I can do it. So does Ned, and Gabriel Swift . . .’

His fist banged down on the table so hard the pens jumped into the air. ‘ENOUGH!’

I bit my lip to stop it trembling.

‘As from today, the Great Dog Detective act will cease to exist.’

‘You’re cutting our act?’ I didn’t know whether to be glad or mortified.

‘But she’s still not earning her keep,’ said Kitty. ‘If she can’t perform, then what’s she doing here, Papa? I’ve often wondered.’

‘That’s enough, Kitty.’ Mr Chipchase’s voice had gone very low. He shot me a quick glance. It was enough to make me shrivel up with shame. For that look said it all: the circus might look after Jasper, who’d performed here all his life, but it couldn’t carry me much longer.

Mr Chipchase came out from behind his desk, pacing the small space between us. A vein bulged in his forehead. ‘Listen carefully, both of you,’ he said. ‘I’m running out of ideas.’

In the pit of my stomach, I knew this was it. I wouldn’t get another chance.

‘My new plan involves you . . .’ he said, stabbing at me with his finger, ‘and you, Kitty.’ Another stab.

I almost sank to the floor.

‘Louie, you’ll join Kitty’s act as her assistant.’

‘Please, sir!’ I begged. ‘Don’t make me! Not an assistant! I can do so much more. If only you’d just . . .’

He cut in. ‘Not just any old assistant, Louie. As from tonight, you’ll stand against the board when she throws her knives. You’ll be her living target.’

This had to be a joke. A very bad joke.

‘A living target? But sir, think of the do-gooders! It’s dangerous! The tightrope’s safer by a mile!’

He wasn’t listening.

‘I hardly think even you can mess
this
up,’ Mr Chipchase said. ‘And don’t worry, Kitty’s very good. She never misses.’

First time for everything,
I thought bitterly.

The little smile on Kitty’s face said the same.