Page 39 of The Peculiar Incident at Thistlewick House

They climbed down from the waggon and Mallory ushered Sarah under one of the heavy canvas flaps at the back of the large tent.

It was used all year round, even when they weren’t performing, because most of the troupe slept in it, and it was where they refined their acts and sat together to eat, especially in bad weather.

Currently they were using a couple of the audience benches for meals, but most of the seating stayed strapped up on the waggons over winter.

The girls crouched down behind two enormous folding screens where, during the shows, the performers prepared themselves for their grand entrances.

Mallory explained to an awestruck Sarah that Samson’s earliest shows had been outside, in a ring of rope, as the trick horses performed their intricate movements and riders balanced and somersaulted on their backs.

Gradually, he’d introduced other novelty acts and the show had expanded, but he’d always been at the mercy of the unpredictable British climate, and was sometimes forced to cancel shows in high winds and rainstorms. He tried hiring venues for a while, but then read about the travelling tent shows touring America and realised that canvas could be easily packed away and transported in waggons, enabling him to take the show to more rural communities who wouldn’t otherwise experience such things.

Beauty was led into the tent by the oldest Caley, who began to walk him around the ring.

‘The daring feats of horse and rider require skill and absolute trust,’ Mallory whispered. ‘Most of the training involves developing the bond between them.’ They could both see the Caley girl whispering into the horse’s ear and stroking him gently, before she even attempted any tricks.

In the far corner, Zella was warming up with stretches, watched by her adoring father.

‘Everything’s an illusion,’ Mallory said, knowing that the biggest illusion of all was that the great strongman and leader of the circus was Samson, when in reality it was his tiny wife – a woman of uncertain origins but who Mallory was convinced was no more Russian than Robert the Bruce.

‘Samson’s real name is Simon but Simon’s Circus doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.’ Both girls giggled.

‘That man’s so small,’ Sarah said in hushed tones, pointing to where Cupid stood on an upturned wooden crate, firing arrows at a target. He was approaching thirty but no bigger than a three-year-old. Esfir, to her great delight, had overtaken him in the summer.

‘If only you could see him in his costume,’ Mallory whispered back.

‘He has the most breathtakingly beautiful set of wings made from the foot-long flight feathers of turkeys, and wears nothing but those and a blue silk loincloth, embellished with pink and red silk flowers. He is the Roman god of love, after all.’ She was too modest to admit that the embroidery was her handiwork and it was fine stitching indeed.

Sarah gasped, as Po Po appeared and began scurrying back and forth, retrieving the arrows.

‘That woman has a neck of gold!’

Mallory tried not to smile at the astonishment on her face.

This was exactly what they strived to do with their shows – amaze and entertain.

What a shame there wasn’t an opportunity for the young girl to see them perform properly.

Perhaps Katerina could be persuaded to bring the circus back up to Norfolk next year.

It was bleak and cold at the moment, but Mallory was desperate to walk along the glorious, wide sandy beach that she’d seen from the top of the cliffs, and could only imagine what a wonderful place that stretch of coast would be in the summer.

‘It’s one long brass coil which, over time, has pushed her shoulders down to give the appearance of a long neck. In her culture, it’s seen as desirable.’

‘She is very elegant,’ the young girl agreed.

But like Mallory, Po Po suffered for her appearance.

The rings made it hard for her to bend for long periods, or turn her head, and she had aches in her limbs and back.

Hazibub had created a salve that eased the muscles, and he’d taught Mallory how to apply it, gently massaging the poor woman’s shoulders.

It was yet another example of how they all looked after each other.

‘Sally Ferris, the contortionist, has work in the music halls with her husband over the winter, but I wish you could see her. It really is the funniest thing when she’s thrown about like a rag doll.

But they’ll find us again in the spring and, with a couple of new acts and some more hired hands, we’ll double in number. ’

The girls sat together for some time, as Katerina arrived and watched her daughter being taught how to vault onto and dismount the horse. She was keen for her to be as accomplished as the Caleys, but there was no trace of a smile on her face, her tiny eyes narrowed as she barked her observations.

Out of nowhere, a large pointer ran into the tent.

Mallory immediately recognised it as Captain, the gentleman’s dog from the previous day.

It started to bark at the strange smells and angry faces, spooking the horse by its sudden arrival.

Just as Zella dismounted, Beauty reared up onto his hind legs in fright and, on his way down, caught her leg with his hoof.

She cried out in pain as the Caley girl tightened the rein and calmed the horse.

‘Not Zella!’ Mallory exclaimed under her breath.

‘Stay here,’ she instructed Sarah, and scampered out from behind the screen to help her friend.

Any injury in their line of work was a worry.

The girl who walked the tightrope when Mallory had first joined the troupe fell and fractured her leg so badly that she could never bear weight on it again.

Katerina had no room for charity and had to let her go.

God only knew where the poor woman ended up.

Several people gathered around, concerned for Zella, especially as a thick patch of blood was now seeping into the fleshings where the sharp edge of its shoe had cut her calf, but Katerina reassured everyone no bones were broken.

‘Captain?’ The owner strode into the tent, as though the place was his, and looked about for his dog, just as Zella was helped to her feet by Hazibub and Samson.

He froze as he noticed the young woman in her costume, hopping towards a bench.

Mallory could see what he saw: her curves and elegance, her mystery and hypnotic allure, as the tiny glass beads and silver threads caught the daylight and made her a thing of wonder.

‘Is this your goddam dog?’ Samson shouted, squaring up to the interloper.

‘Yes. And this is also my family’s goddam land. I’m Christian Felthorpe and my father is lord of the manor. You may have rights of common, but my dog can run wheresoever he pleases.’

‘Even if he startles my beasts when they’re working and causes injury to my daughter?’ Samson’s hands were balled into fists and his tone aggressive.

Katerina, who’d usually take control of a situation such as this, had disappeared.

Mallory scanned the tent for her but there was no trace.

This was odd because the calm but feisty woman was much better at defusing such situations than her husband, who everyone knew solved things with his fists rather than diplomacy.

‘Yes. Even then.’

The two men stared at each other until Hazibub walked over and placed himself between them.

‘I am thinking Zella will be mending. It will bruise and perhaps be scarring, but will heal.’ He placed his hands together, as if in prayer, and bowed at Master Felthorpe, calming the tension.

Satisfied Zella would be all right, Mallory retreated behind the screen and ushered Sarah from the tent, worried that they’d be discovered. The pair scampered behind the waggons and ran silently into the woods. When they were out of sight of the camp, they sat together on the trunk of a fallen oak.

‘I’m glad your high-wire lady is not badly injured. I wonder if I can string a line between some trees and learn how to walk a tightrope. If I could, would you let me join Samson’s circus?’ she asked. ‘Maybe when I’m a bit older and Grandma is dead,’ she added as an afterthought.

Mallory smiled. ‘P’rhaps it’s a good thing that you saw the accident and realise that our life is not all glamour.

Horses can be dangerous, even when well trained.

That’s half a ton of animal that can come crashing down on you, if you’re not careful.

And no, I wouldn’t want you to live this life.

My options were limited but the whole world is open to you. ’

‘You’re wrong,’ Sarah said. ‘My world is small. I’ve been nowhere and seen nothing, and it worries me that I’ll end up like my mother, stuck here forever.’

‘But Thistlewick Tye is such a lovely place. Zella said the streets are incredibly clean, the houses so neat, and I honestly don’t blame those local lads for fighting with Harry and the others. We’ve disrupted your peace.’

‘I suppose we are lucky, but the vicar is stern and I never did enjoy school much. One of the boys in my class was whipped for taking the Lord’s name in vain, and although he’s never dared to utter such blasphemy again, he’ll have those welts on his legs always.

I do understand that if you go on big adventures, bad things might happen, but I’ll never travel outside Norfolk or walk across the sky in a beaded tulle skirt, and my duty to my family will keep me in this village forever. ’

‘It is strange how back to front our lives are,’ Mallory observed. ‘You’re so pretty but lead such a dull life. I’m ugly and lead a life so full of colour.’

Sarah leaned forward and put her small arms about Mallory, squeezing her tight.

‘I think you’re beautiful,’ she said. ‘Especially on the inside.’

Now anxious that she’d been away from home for too long, and not wanting her mother to notice she’d disappeared, the young girl skipped back to the village, with promises to meet up again in a few days.

Mallory headed back to camp, but as she got closer, she heard voices.

Slowing her steps and tucking herself behind the wide trunks of the ash and elms, she crept forward.

Zella was leaning back against one of the trees, a thick woollen shawl wrapped about her body.

Her injured leg was tentatively resting on the ground, as she played with the ends of her loose hair.

With his back to Mallory, stood the Felthorpe heir – his dog circling his feet, and sniffing at the dusty fallen leaves and strange scents left by the woodland creatures.

‘I’ll make amends. My attitude towards your father was unforgivable.’

‘He’s just protective of me.’

‘Understandably so. You’re a treasure worth protecting…’

Mallory had seen this play out before. Zella was the star act, not only because of her talent, but also because she was beautiful.

Even as a young girl, this meant she attracted the wrong sort of attention and Samson had occasionally been involved in fights to protect his daughter’s virtue.

Part of the problem was, growing up in this world, she’d never had a childhood, and both behaved and was treated as much older than her years.

She’d worked long hours since she was tiny and was surrounded entirely by adults leading unconventional lives and embracing sexual freedoms she might not otherwise have been exposed to.

Yet, conversely, she was kept on such a tight rein that Mallory understood her desire to rebel.

And then, at the disturbingly young age of fourteen, she’d fallen pregnant – apparent by the first weeks of sickness that Mallory had initially helped her to conceal. But it wasn’t long before the swell of her stomach was visible in the skin-tight costumes she wore, and the truth came to light.

Katerina had been furious. The legal age of consent may be twelve for girls but, in reality, her daughter’s age, and the fact she was unmarried, was utterly scandalous.

Mallory heard the shouts and screams, and saw the scarlet cheek where Zella later confided her mother had struck her, in her fury.

The beautiful high-wire girl was one of their biggest draws and so attempts were made to hide her condition with a longer skirt of stiff tulle about her gradually expanding waist. Eventually, she was dropped from the bill and kept out of sight until she’d given birth to the child.

One of the benefits of their itinerant nature was that, forever on the move, the troupe simply arrived at the next town and announced that Samson and Katerina had been blessed with another daughter.

Mallory knew little about the father, or how Zella felt about the arrangement within her family, but the truth was never spoken of.

The young girl had no say in Esfir’s care, or Katerina’s decision that the child would become an acrobat, like her biological mother.

The poor thing was stretched and twisted from a young age, with the idea that she could start performing properly by the time she was five.

Mallory knew Katerina had even chosen her name – as Esfir was a Russian name meaning star.

But Zella continued to revel in the attention of men, perhaps because her mother was so hard to please.

There was no ‘well done’ or ‘you look beautiful’ for her daughter, or indeed anyone in the troupe.

For Katerina everyone had to try harder, be better, shine brighter.

Only in recent months had she eased off her criticisms towards Mallory, perhaps because it was obvious to all that she was dying.

Despite Zella’s previous misjudgement, Mallory could see she was enjoying the attentions of this wealthy young man. It felt wrong to be spying on them, but she couldn’t pull herself away. What was it between these two young people that had her so mesmerised?

Master Felthorpe slowly leaned towards Zella, who still had her back to the tree.

Mallory could see how their eyes were locked and their bodies were mirroring.

But as he got closer, she ducked under his arm and avoided the kiss, panicking at the last moment.

She must know this encounter was wrong and couldn’t possibly have a happy ending.

He gave an amused snort and then smiled, not put off in the slightest. The pair separated, and Zella limped back to camp, turning at the last minute to lock eyes with the young man.

They both smiled, and then he whistled for his dog, who totally ignored him, and he set off in the opposite direction.

Mallory lingered a while, anxious that her friend was playing a dangerous game. It occurred to her then, as someone who had spent a lifetime longing to be beautiful and command admiration, that being cherished was not always a positive thing.