After breakfast we went to cabin 12A.
‘Make yourselves at home,’ said Mr Wellbeloved, though he didn’t take off his hat.
The cabin was tiny for three of us. It was like being sardines in a box. Gabriel fidgeted so much our elbows kept bumping. Truth told, I was on edge myself. If only Mr Wellbeloved would change his mind, then we’d all be happy. Though for that I supposed I’d have to wait.
‘We’ll get a bed put in here for you,’ Mr Wellbeloved said, opening a side door. Another tiny room led off it. ‘The green trunk contains clothes. Select yourself something . . .’ his eyes ran over me, ‘. . . appropriate for the upper deck.’
‘Thank you, sir!’
First a fine breakfast, now new clothes. Things didn’t seem that bad. Mr Chipchase had painted a right dark picture. Yet Mr Wellbeloved was actually being kind.
The tiny space was a dressing room of sorts. The trunk sat open on the floor, tissue paper spilling out over the sides. I knelt down and started rummaging till I was elbow deep in lace and silks. These weren’t like circus clothes. The colours were pale, not bright, the skirts long, not short. And there wasn’t a sequin or feather in sight. These were towners’ clothes, fine towners’ clothes. I’d never worn anything like them.
Outside, the wind had got up. The ship rolled, making the water slosh about in the basin on the washstand. I washed in it quick, then tried on a dress. It was pale blue with little buttons down the front, and it fitted snug as a glove. Yet stood before the mirror I hardly knew myself. The girl staring back looked so dull, as if her greatest dream was to sit in a parlour doing cross stitch. The frock wanted for a bright feather or extra ruffles on the sleeves, and the skirts were too long to walk in. Perhaps another of these dresses might suit me better. There were plenty to choose from, and they were all in my size. And all brought on board ship in Mr Wellbeloved’s luggage.
My head began to spin. Mr Wellbeloved was travelling to America with a young man. And I might’ve been wrong, but Gabriel didn’t look like the type to wear frocks.
So why bring them with him?
It was quite a coincidence.
There was a knock and the door opened.
‘Perfect,’ said Mr Wellbeloved, taking in my new look.
I forced a smile. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘And were the other clothes suitable?’
I hesitated. He read my face. ‘Ah! Not fancy enough for you, eh?’
‘No, sir, it’s not really that. It’s just that . . . well . . .’ I couldn’t hide my doubts. ‘Gabriel’s the performer you chose, so it’s . . . well, surprising to find all these girls’ clothes here. I can’t imagine they were meant for him.’
He didn’t say anything. I fiddled with the buttons on my dress as I felt his eyes bore into me. Then he laughed. Head back, a flash of gold teeth showing. Once, in a sideshow, I’d seen a caged tiger yawn; I was reminded of it now.
‘Think about it, Louisa,’ was all he said.
*
I did think about it. So much that my head hurt. The best cure was being up on deck, leaning over the rail as the sea churned below. The salty spray turned my new frock stiff and my hair escaped its pins, though I didn’t much care. In the end, only one idea made sense: Mr Wellbeloved had chosen Gabriel by a whisker. The clothes had been packed just in case he’d gone for me, and he’d not had time to remove them. It sounded a fair bet, and it made me feel easier. For if it really had been so close, surely he’d agree to swap us over. He didn’t seem to mind my being here. Quite the reverse, in fact.
Unlike Gabriel.
His fine manners had deserted him. Clearly, he didn’t want me to take his place at all. In fact, he seemed jealous. Perhaps Mr Wellbeloved had promised him great things in America, and now he did want the glory after all. Me turning up had scuppered his plans; I’d seen as much in his face. It made me want to shake him.
Or perhaps I should be feeling guilty. No. I couldn’t manage that. Not long ago Gabriel had come to my circus, taken a role that should’ve been mine. This was what I kept reminding myself.
*
By late afternoon the storm had set in proper. Most people had taken to their cabins, and I found Gabriel in ours. He was stretched out on his bunk, but seeing me he sat up sharpish.
‘You ain’t very pleased I’m here, are you?’ I said.
He got up off the bed.
‘No you don’t.’ I blocked his way out. He sat down again. ‘Not till you tell me what’s going on.’
Gabriel held his head in his hands. I supposed he was seasick, for he did look frightful pale. ‘What are you doing here, Louie?’ he said. ‘You stowed away, didn’t you?’
‘Might’ve.’
‘Why?’
I sighed. Had he really forgotten that night at Littleton, when he’d been too terrified to perform and I’d brought the house down? Me. Not him.
It was time for plain talking. ‘Mr Wellbeloved was going to choose one of us that night.’ I stressed the word. ‘Then, despite the fact that you’d run away once, and you didn’t want to go with him, he did choose you. It doesn’t make sense.’
Gabriel shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he said bleakly.
‘But don’t you see? That night at Chipchase’s, this seemed like the last thing you wanted. Yet for me it was a dream come true. I believed he might choose me – it would’ve been best for both of us. I even told Jasper all about it!’
Only now I felt daft. It was obvious I’d got the wrong end of the stick about Mr Wellbeloved’s intentions. And Gabriel’s for that matter. ‘So why are you here? After what happened. After you . . .’ I hesitated.
‘ . . . seized up. Got stage fright. Couldn’t do it.’ Now he glared at me.
‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
Neither of us spoke. Outside, the wind raged. Rain lashed against the porthole window. It suited my spirits, which had sunk to a new low. I’d wanted to help Gabriel, not fight with him. It seemed I’d mucked that up too.
Then Gabriel said, ‘You still haven’t answered my question. Why are you here?’
‘To change Mr Wellbeloved’s mind. If I get the American job, you’ll be able to go home. And we’ll both be happy.’
I didn’t mention Mam – that was family business, best kept private. Jasper doubted I’d find her, and he was probably right.
Gabriel smiled weakly. ‘Mr Wellbeloved won’t just swap us, Louie. Things aren’t that simple.’
He wasn’t jealous of me, I saw that now. He didn’t sound anything like a person wanting glory.
‘Let’s wait and see,’ I said.
‘It won’t do any good.’ He clasped his hands together, flexing his fingers. ‘I broke my contract by coming to Chipchase’s. That’s why he followed me.’
‘Oh.’ My stomach dropped. ‘Heck.’
In the circus world, broken contracts were bad with a capital B. Ned had told me about it, tales of battered legs and poisoned horses. I didn’t know whether to be cross or sorry. But I did finally understand. No wonder Gabriel was so uptight.
A sudden wave hit the ship. I staggered sideways. ‘Can I sit down?’
Gabriel shifted up to make room for me. I dropped down heavily beside him.
‘So, Mr Wellbeloved won’t agree to it,’ he said again.
‘Well, he ain’t exactly thrown me overboard.’
‘Not yet, no.’
I looked sideways at him. ‘What d’you mean by that?’
‘He’s not a man to be crossed.’
‘He’s been all right to me,’ I said, gesturing at my dress.
‘No one says no to Mr Wellbeloved and gets away with it.’
‘But I want him to say yes!’
‘Be careful what you wish for, that’s all.’
Without meaning to, I glanced at his neck. Those marks were still there, though by now they’d gone purple. Quickly, I looked away.
‘He’s planning something for America. Something very, very big,’ Gabriel said.
‘Tell me.’
‘That’s all I know. You should have stayed at Chipchase’s, Louie. He made you a showstopper. Wasn’t that what you wanted?’
It was.
Yet, now the idea of America had taken hold, nothing else was enough. I couldn’t just go home and forget all about it.
‘It took me years to get that showstopper part,’ I said. ‘And I still don’t understand why Mr Chipchase changed his mind so sudden. Mostly, he just holds me back. Still wants to, I reckon, even though he knows I’ve got talent.’
For that was how it felt. There was always some reason why I couldn’t do things, rather than why I could. Yet how to explain it to a boy who was scared? The very things he feared, I loved with all my being.
And there was my mam. The hope of finding her had taken root too. It wasn’t about to go away, though I’d no idea where to start looking.
‘Well, I’m glad I’m here,’ I said. ‘But Mr Wellbeloved is a bit strange, ain’t he? And I do wish he’d take that blasted hat off sometimes.’
‘Louie,’ said Gabriel. ‘He never takes that hat off.’
Which struck me as odd. Because on deck this morning he was hatless. Yet when he came to the gate to speak to me the hat was definitely on again.
‘Maybe it’s his lucky hat,’ I said, though it didn’t sound likely. Someone as rich as Mr Wellbeloved had luck enough already.
‘Well, he’s certainly attached to it,’ said Gabriel.
‘And to you. He doesn’t want to let you go in a hurry either.’
Gabriel stiffened. ‘I told you. I broke my contract. Just leave it, can’t you?’
‘All right! No need to snap!’
We fell into uneasy silence. It wasn’t like Gabriel to be touchy. Mid-thought, my hand went to my shift strap. My fingers stopped. Mam’s heart wasn’t there. I prodded my sleeve right down to the wrist; not there either. Bewildered, I scanned the cabin.
‘What have you lost?’ asked Gabriel.
I crouched down to look under the bunk. Just packing cases and dust, nothing else. Dizzily, I stood up. ‘A piece of red cloth shaped like a heart. It’s important.’
Gabriel got off the bunk as I thumped pillows, shook out blankets. No sign of it.
‘It must be here somewhere,’ I said, growing hot.
‘We’ll find it, don’t worry.’
He didn’t ask questions, like whose heart was it and why was it so special. Not like Ned, who’d push and push until he got an answer. It was some relief. Certain things were best left alone until you were ready; Gabriel understood that about me at least.
While he checked the cabin, I searched the dressing room. By now I was close to frantic. I looked everywhere: my old clothes, the trunk full of new ones. Then we went back up on deck, and came down again. We retraced every single step but found nothing. The heart had vanished into thin air.