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.