That night, Effie and Gus had dinner in Hannah’s caravan.
‘We have to do something, Hannah. It’s no good waiting to see what will turn up. We’re running out of time,’ said Gus.
‘Then, there is only one thing to do,’ said Hannah. ‘We have to tell Nance everything. If she will organise to set the rigging up, we can do an open-air show.’
‘No way,’ said Gus. ‘She’ll never let us do it.’
‘Gus, you underestimate your grandmother. She is one of the bravest women I have ever known. Effie, you go and fetch her.’
Nance listened with her head bent as Hannah told the story of their secret training. She pursed her lips tightly and frowned.
‘He’s good, Nance,’ said Hannah. ‘The sawdust is in his blood. He will be safe. I will make sure he will be safe.’
‘I’ll sleep on it,’ she answered. ‘You’ll have your answer in the morning.’
Gus pulled the cover off Lulu’s cage. She blinked and unfurled her crest.
‘Silly bugger,’ she cawed.
‘Isn’t it about time you came up with something new?’ he asked.
He sat around in the front part of the caravan, waiting for Nance to emerge in her dressing-gown to fix her ritual morning cup of tea. At nine-thirty, when she still hadn’t appeared, he gave up and wandered over to Hannah’s.
Effie was already there, lying on the floor in shorts and a T-shirt, sucking on an icypole.
‘Any news?’ she asked.
Gus just shook his head and opened the freezer of Hannah’s tiny bar fridge to grab the last icypole.
At eleven-thirty, Nance opened the caravan door and sunlight flooded in.
‘Put your glad-rags on, loves – your best frock, Hannah – we’ve got some real talking to do. We’re gonna talk that council mob into letting us do an open-air show on Cable Beach. Can’t think of a better place to watch my grandson fly!’
They drove into town and Effie and Gus sat in the back seat of the car outside the council offices. They waited for nearly an hour. Their backs were drenched with sweat and stuck to the vinyl seats. Gus wound the window up and down, then leant over into the front seat and fiddled with the radio.
‘Do you have to keep messing with everything? That old radio hasn’t worked in years.’
‘Then I can’t break it, can I?’ said Gus.
‘When’s your mum arrive?’
‘Around six o’clock,’ he said, pulling the knob off the dial.
‘Doesn’t give us much time to get ready for the show.’
‘It’ll happen,’ he said trying to jam the knob back in place. He banged the panel of the radio with the flat of his hand before slumping back into his seat.
Finally, Nance and Hannah came out of the council offices.
‘Uh-oh,’ said Effie. ‘Looks bad.’
Nance got in the driver’s seat and glanced over her shoulder at the kids. Gus held his breath. He couldn’t bear to ask
‘Well?’ said Effie.
‘Show starts at eight o’clock!’ said Nance.
She revved the engine and above the roar of the motor, the radio blasted into action.
‘Yes!’ shouted Effie and Gus, punching the air and laughing.
Everyone stared as they drove through town. Gus and Effie hung out the windows, waving and shouting. Some people waved back.
‘Come and see the circus!’ shouted Effie.
‘Zarconi’s Incredible Travelling Circus on Cable Beach,’ cried Gus. ‘Show time 8.00 pm.’
Doc thought the whole idea was crazy, but Nance was firm with him. She left out the bit about Gus performing on trapeze.
‘We’ve got no choice, Doc. This is the only way we’re going to be able to make the petrol money to get back south. We’ve done shows without the canvas before, and as long as we can get away with it, we will.’
Doc, Cas and Vytas worked all afternoon setting up the rigging on the beach. When the safety net was finally in place, Gus felt a warm rush of pleasure. The web of netting and wires looked like the skeleton of an ancient boat, washed ashore in the middle of the huge white expanse of Cable Beach.
Doc sat down on a bleacher and stared out over the ocean, his hands cupped around a can of beer. Gus watched from a distance. Doc looked older, more crumpled and defeated than Gus had ever seen him. Gus wanted to go and sit with him, just to reassure the old man, but he was afraid he would let something slip. If Doc suspected what was going to happen that night, he’d probably go and tear all the rigging down again. Gus walked down to the edge of the water. The tide lapped constantly and small waves broke around his ankles, each one washing away a layer of his anxieties.
Far out on the smooth water, a pearler was heading into shore. Gus imagined being out there on that wide sea, diving under the glassy surface and coming up with a net full of oyster shells. Gus knew that most of the pearls were farmed these days, but once a huge crew of divers had worked the waters around Broome. He kicked a spray of sea water into the air and watched the drops cascade around him. Somewhere out there, these same waters were lapping against the shores of his father’s island and somewhere up above him, his mother was in a plane, flying towards him.