Chapter 6

Lizzie woke up in her caravan still feeling full. So, it hadn’t been a dream – she really had gorged herself on roast chicken, mashed potato, gravy and tiny sweet peas, and then plate after plate of meringues drowning in thick cream, and cherries as crimson as the Maharaja’s ruby rings.

She sat up, noticing that her limbs still ached a little. Ah, yes. The dancing. The Maharaja had clapped his hands, the band had begun to play, and everyone had begun to dance in couples and singles across the lawns, around the tents and in and out of the bushes, laughing as they went. Erin and Malachy, Hari and Nora, and Dru with her…

‘Phew.’ She fell back against her mound of pillows. ‘It’s a good job I ain’t a princess. I don’t reckon I’ve got the puff for it.’

Her memories of the night before were a bit hazy, but she remembered still being up at past one in the morning. No wonder she felt exhausted. Tea, she thought. What I need is a nice hot cup of tea.

She quickly dressed and headed over to Ma Sullivan’s catering tent. To her surprise, it was empty, with only Ma Sullivan herself waiting behind the counter. ‘She’s alive!’ Ma Sullivan laughed. ‘Saints be praised.’

‘Where is everybody? What time is it?’

‘It’ll be about eight o’clock, my dear. Everybody’s already up and rehearsing. Tea and toast, is it?’

‘Just tea, thanks. I don’t think I’ll need to eat again for about a week.’

Lizzie took a seat, and soon Ma Sullivan brought tea over for them both. ‘I’m not in trouble, am I?’ Lizzie asked. ‘For sleeping in?’

‘Bless you, no. You’re not in the show. It’s only the performers who are at work already. They want to make this show really special for the Maharaja, you see. He’s already seen the regular routine in Oxford, so they’re trying to work out some new stunts.’

‘Oh. I’m at a bit of a loose end today, then. I know! I could help you make a birthday cake for Erin and Nora!’

‘That’s sweet of you, Liz, but it’s all under control. I wouldn’t want to put you to the trouble.’ Ma smiled in a sly way. ‘Now if I was in your shoes, I’d be finishing what I started last night.’

Lizzie gawped. ‘Finishing what?’

‘Oh, don’t make out like you don’t know. I saw you and Dru dancing the night away, out under the stars.’

‘So? All we did was have a dance!’ Lizzie exclaimed. ‘You’re a rotten old tease, you are.’

‘You think I don’t remember what it’s like to be young?’ Ma Sullivan winked.

‘We’re just friends. Can’t friends have a dance together?’

Ma Sullivan laughed like a horse. ‘There’s none so blind as those that will not see! Go on, be off with you. Go make yourself useful in the show tent.’

Lizzie finished her tea before she left. It gave her a hearty warm feeling inside, just like Ma Sullivan’s laughter did.

She slipped into the show tent unseen. Rehearsals were underway, each group in their own area. The clowns had one corner, the acrobats another, and up above on the high wire, Dru and Collette were polishing their routine.

She quietly took a seat at the back. Dru went promenading up and down the tightrope in a bathing costume, carrying his sister on his shoulders. She carried a parasol, which she twirled like a giant wheel, catching the light. By the look of it, they had revamped their act to give it a seaside theme. That should give the locals a smile, Lizzie thought.

Dru paused in the middle of the tightrope. His father Pierre, sporting a fine black moustache curled up at the ends, threw him a stick of rock, followed rapidly by two more. Dru juggled the rock sticks, wobbling back and forth, while Collette snatched at them, never quite managing to get one.

I know what gave you that idea, Lizzie thought happily.

‘Excuse me? Everyone? May I please have your attention?’ It was the Maharaja, wringing his hands and standing in the entrance to the tent. ‘Something terrible has happened.’

As the circus folk saw the distraught look on his face, they stopped what they were doing and turned to listen. Dru deftly caught all three rock sticks in the same hand and hurried to the end of the wire, where he set Collette down with infinite care.

Lizzie could feel a hard egg of fear growing in her throat. The Maharaja looked dark-eyed and sick. His shirt was hanging out. Someone’s been murdered, she thought. Or found dead in their bed, a cold corpse in the morning. That light I saw last night … Elsie tried to warn us about ghosts coming up from the harbour. She told herself not to get carried away. Whatever might be going on, she should listen and help. That was what her powers were for, wasn’t it?

‘There’s been a b-b-burglary,’ the Maharaja stammered. ‘Last night, while Lady Susannah was asleep in her bedchamber, her jet jewellery was stolen.’

Everyone looked at each other uneasily. There were a few murmurs and gasps and some of the circus people looked weary and miserable, as if they’d known this was all too good to last. Lizzie felt that way too. It had all been going too well. Even though Johnson was wary of them, they’d been made welcome here. And now this…

‘I have to ask,’ the Maharaja went on, ‘if anyone here saw anything suspicious after the dinner party. Anything at all.’

Here we go again, Lizzie thought with a heavy heart. Even though she’d only been in the circus a short while, she had quickly learned that many people had a low opinion of circus folk. Most assumed they were all criminals. She’d never forget the London policemen who had treated her like a thief on sight.

One of the clowns, Didi, spoke with a voice shaking with anger. ‘If we’d seen anything suspicious, sir, I expect we’d have said so at the time.’ He looked around. ‘I think I speak for all of us.’

The Maharaja realized what Didi was upset about. ‘My dear man, I don’t mean any offence. I am quite sure nobody here is involved in this dreadful deed. I am simply asking for your help in catching the culprit.’

That took the wind out of Didi’s sails. ‘Ah. Well, I do beg your pardon. We’ll all keep our eyes open, won’t we, fellas?’

A chorus of ‘yes!’ and ‘of course!’ was his answer.

‘I am in your debt, my friends,’ the Maharaja said. ‘Any detail you might recall, however insignificant it might seem, could be of help. They told me Whitby was cursed, but I laughed in their faces. How I wish I had not. My poor Lady Susannah is quite beside herself with grief.’

I bet she is, Lizzie thought. The lady had been so proud of her jewels. Maybe whoever had taken them had been jealous of her wealth, or wanted to humble her. Someone from her past perhaps?

As the Maharaja turned to leave, she stood up and called ‘Wait!’ at the top of her voice. She ran from her seat down to the startled man.

‘Yes? You saw something, my dear?’

‘No,’ she gasped, ‘but I might.’

The Maharaja looked blank.

‘I could read her palm,’ Lizzie explained. ‘I see things. I might have a vision of what really happened. Who it was that done it.’

The Maharaja didn’t seem to know what to say to that. ‘Thank you,’ he eventually said, with great respect. ‘I will pass on your kind offer to Lady Susannah. She is far too upset right now, but when she calms down, perhaps you could offer to do … whatever it is you do.’

Once the Maharaja had gone, Hari went and sat next to Lizzie. ‘You’re really going to help him?’

‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I always thought your powers were meant to be used for good,’ Hari said. There was a coldness in his voice that Lizzie didn’t like.

‘I feel sorry for him, and for her. It ain’t nice to have your stuff stolen, is it?’

Hari laughed bitterly. ‘Have you ever heard of karma, Lizzie?’

‘Can’t say I have.’

‘There’s a saying you English have that sums it up pretty well: “What goes around, comes around.” I’m not going to be crying any tears for the Maharaja having his jewels stolen. Not when he’s stolen jewels from his people in India!’

‘’Scuse me,’ Lizzie said, confused at his attitude. ‘I’m … I’m going for a walk.’ She strode off, feeling like everything was turning sour all of a sudden. Maybe the circus would have been better off in Reading after all.

The tables and chairs were still set out from the previous night’s party, though they were bare now. Nora was sitting there alone, her arms flat on the table top, her head resting on the backs of her hands. Lizzie thought she was asleep until she saw her friend’s eyes were open. She was gazing up at the castle.

‘What you up to?’

‘Wondering which one is her window,’ Nora sighed.

Lizzie sat down next to her. ‘I hate this. It was supposed to be so much fun. The Maharaja’s just tryin’ to cheer everyone up, and now this happens!’

‘Poor Lady Susannah,’ said Nora. ‘That jewellery was gorgeous.’

‘Jet costs a packet,’ Lizzie agreed, remembering Delingpole’s.

‘I know,’ Nora sighed. ‘But it’s not just that, is it? It was a gift from him. From her handsome prince.’

‘I didn’t even think of that.’ Nora is surprisingly romantic sometimes, Lizzie thought. Her friend dreamed of castles and fairy-tale weddings. She was so different from Erin, who made rude jokes and flirted with cheeky conmen on the sea front. Although the twins looked identical, their personalities were complete opposites.

‘So who’d you think did it?’ Nora asked. ‘You must have had a vision, or something. You’re always getting them over stuff like this.’

‘I haven’t a clue!’ Lizzie said, shaking her head. ‘No visions, no dreams, not a dicky bird.’

Nora frowned in thought. ‘It must have been someone who could have got inside the castle,’ she announced, like a detective making a clever deduction.

‘Well, that could have been anyone!’ Lizzie scoffed. ‘There’s no security here to speak of, is there?’

‘Suppose not.’

‘The Maharaja’s like a great big cuddly sheepdog. He thinks everyone’s his friend. He’s just too trusting.’

Nora’s lip trembled. ‘Why did this have to happen, Lizzie? Why can’t things just be … just be nice?’

Lizzie put a comforting arm around her friend’s shoulder. But the second her body touched Nora’s, a vision exploded into her mind, sudden and forceful as a blow to the face. She whimpered and clutched her forehead, her fingers jerking as if trying to rip the unwanted vision out of her mind and fling it away.

‘Lizzie?’ Nora gasped. She pulled away. ‘What can you see?’

‘I…’

She couldn’t tell her. The vision was still there, fixed in her mind like a nightmare that doesn’t fade even after waking.

In her mind’s eye, she saw Nora. She was holding her long hair out of the way and fastening a stunning necklace round her neck. It was made from rich, black jet.

‘Are you all right? Do you want a drink of water?’

‘Would you?’ Lizzie croaked. ‘I’ll wait here. Thanks.’

As Nora ran off, Lizzie sat feeling sick to her stomach. She didn’t really want a drink – she just had to make Nora go away, at least until that horrible vision was out of her head.

You know what it means, a nasty voice whispered at the back of her mind.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Lizzie muttered to herself.

But an idea was taking shape in her imagination, even though she hated it. Nora had pined after that jet necklace like a lovesick schoolgirl. She’d gazed into the window at Delingpole’s, talking about how much she wanted jet jewellery of her own.

Could she have stolen it?

Lizzie thought back to how Nora had been only minutes before. Had she been staring at the window out of guilt? When she asked Lizzie if she’d had a vision, had there been a touch of panic in her voice – as if she feared to be found out?

‘Stop it!’ she yelled to herself. She smacked herself on the side of the head, hard enough to hurt. That brought her to her senses. Mercifully, the vision began to fade and Lizzie felt dreadful now. Nora had become like a sister to her. She’d never had a best friend before. Nora was utterly loyal, kind-hearted and trusting. She’d never steal, no matter how much she coveted something that belonged to someone else.

‘Feeling any better?’ Nora said. She passed Lizzie her glass of water.

‘Much,’ said Lizzie, forcing a smile.

But a cold worm of worry was still coiling and looping deep down in her stomach. No matter how much she might trust Nora, she knew her visions had never been wrong before. Even Malachy had admitted it. She looked up into her friend’s troubled, concerned face, and wished she could say what was in her heart.