Gus felt tight with excitement all through the evening’s performance. The tent was packed and the audience roared with laughter at his wire-walking act. The wire was slung only a few feet above the sawdust and he made the act comic by pretending to be clumsy, howling with mock pain as his feet slid apart in the splits, shouting with surprise as he tumbled off the wire into the sawdust.
All the acts worked well that night, especially the flying trapeze. Gus stood with Vytas beside the fairy-floss machine and watched as the lights dimmed and all eyes turned on Effie and Hannah in their shimmering silver leotards. Vytas rested one hand on Gus’s shoulder and squeezed tightly.
‘Soon, little fish, you too will fly,’ he whispered.
For the first time, Gus watched Effie soar across the big top without a sharp stab of longing and envy.
After the show, Effie joined him as he lifted little kids onto Miette’s back and took them for rides around the ring.
‘Are we gonna do it?’ she whispered.
Gus nodded and she started nervously fiddling with the spangles on the front of her costume. Gus wanted to slap her hands away. He was sure someone would notice how jumpy they both were. He handed the little kid back to her mother and watched with relief as the last of the crowd left the big top and Cas led Miette away to her float.
‘C’mon, Effie,’ said Nance, striding across the ring. ‘Let’s see what this take is worth. I reckon it’s the best night we’ve had in a long while. Pity we can’t do a second show.’
‘Come and help take down the rigging, boy,’ said Doc. ‘We want to make Bunbury before midnight.’
‘Can’t I help Nance instead?’ he asked.
‘Effie can help me,’ said Nance. ‘You go help the men.’
‘Umm, I have to go to the toilet,’ said Effie.
‘That won’t take you long,’ said Nance.
‘Me too,’ said Gus.
‘What is it with you kids, hope you’re not getting sick or something,’ Nance called out after them as they slipped out into the night.
When they got around the far side of the big top, Gus punched Effie in the arm.
‘What a dumb thing to say – you have to go to the toilet! Couldn’t you think of anything better than that?’
‘Gus, this is really stupid. She might not even ask you to get anything out of the safety deposit box. I’ve only done it a couple of times. Mostly Nance does it, and it’s always locked.’
‘Look, just show me where it is and I’ll work out a way to get it open,’ said Gus.
When the kids peered out from behind the caravan they saw everyone was working on getting the tent down; even Nance was helping with the lights and cables. They crept across the lot to Doc and Nance’s caravan. The evening’s take was sitting on the table with the biscuit tin and a ledger open, ready for Nance to deal with. The kids were careful to crawl along the floor of the caravan so that no one would see them through the caravan windows. In the narrow connecting hall, Effie opened a high cupboard and pointed. ‘Up there,’ she said.
The fireproof security box was on the top shelf.
‘Does she keep all the money in there?’ asked Gus. ‘I wouldn’t want them to think we were stealing.’
‘No, that’s always in the biscuit tin. You know that. There’s just a bunch of documents and once in a while, Nance uses that ledger. It’s for tax or something like that. And there’s the photos too. You need the stool to get it down,’ whispered Effie.
‘Just give me a leg up, I don’t want to be seen moving around in front of the windows,’ said Gus.
Effie clasped her hands together and made a stirrup to boost Gus up. He hooked his fingers over the top shelf, grabbed the box in both hands and leapt to the floor.
‘I’ve got it,’ he said triumphantly.
‘So you have,’ said Nance, stepping into the light at the end of the passageway. Her shadow fell across them and Gus felt a cold sinking feeling in his stomach.
‘So what do you think you two are up to?’ she asked.
Effie looked at Gus.
‘I want to see the picture of my father,’ said Gus, looking Nance straight in the eye.
‘What makes you think there’s one in here?’
Neither of the kids answered. Effie started fiddling with the spangles on the front of her costume again.
‘Effie, stop picking at those things or we’ll have to sew them back on. You’ve been snooping through my things, haven’t you, girl?’
‘It’s not her fault, Nance,’ said Gus, stepping in front of Effie. ‘It was my idea to come and see – I mean if there is a photo of my dad, then I reckon I have a right to see it.’
‘Get out of here, Effie, and get out of that costume.’
Silently Effie slipped past Gus. The screen door slammed shut behind her.
‘As for you, Gus,’ said Nance, her green eyes flashing, ‘you can get out there and start rolling up canvas.’
‘No,’ said Gus, wrapping his arms firmly around the big metal box and holding his ground.
‘Give me that box, Augustus,’ she said, reaching out to take it from him.
‘No way.’
‘There’s no picture of your father in there,’ she said.
‘I don’t believe you. Effie said she saw one. She saw it and she said he looked like me.’
Nance sighed and dropped her hands. ‘It’s not your father.’
‘Well, who is it then?’
‘Give me the box and I’ll show you.’
They sat on the couch together with the open tin at their feet. Nance picked up a big manila envelope and laid it on her lap, smoothing it under her hand before flipping it open. Suddenly, she looked up. ‘C’mon in, stickybeak,’ she called. ‘I can see your costume twinkling out there.’
Effie stepped back into the caravan, hanging her head. She sniffed and a little sob slipped out.
‘I thought…’ she began.
‘Never mind what you thought,’ said Nance. She patted the couch, gesturing for Effie to sit down.
Gus took the first picture Nance offered him and held it with both hands. There was his mum as a teenager, her fair hair brushed back in a tight ponytail. She was laughing, her face open and full of life. Beside her, with his arm around her, was a dark-haired young man, taller than she was and deeply tanned.
‘That’s your uncle with your mother there. He could always make her laugh like that. He was always joking, that boy.’
‘He’s really handsome,’ said Effie, leaning closer to get a look.
Nance didn’t smile. She just took a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap.
‘Is his name Gus?’ asked Gus.
‘Yes, it was. Augustus McGrath O’Brien, but we all called him Gus. My boy, my Gus.’
Nance was very still and she was staring straight ahead of her. Gus and Effie looked at each other. Gus didn’t want to ask the next question. He could guess what its answer would be.
‘Where is he now, Nance? Where’s this Gus?’
‘He died before you were born,’ she said slowly. ‘Your mother named you for him. McGrath was my maiden name, before I married your grandfather. Annie took it as her own when she left us.’
‘Was it an accident, or was he sick with something?’ asked Gus.
Nance turned on Gus, her eyes suddenly wide, her expression full of pain. ‘Isn’t it enough to know that he’s gone. Can you leave nothing alone, child?’
Gus hung his head guiltily. ‘Sorry, Nance,’ he said slipping the photo back into the envelope. ‘We’ll go help with the canvas.’
He gestured for Effie to follow him. She was standing to one side of the couch looking uncomfortable. As they walked across the lot, Gus glanced back and saw Nance slowly counting the change from the night’s take, the open security box on the floor beside her. Her face was wet with tears, shining in the soft light of the caravan.