Circus of the Unseen (15 page)

‘Grab the swing, sweetie!' Scarlet hollered. I opened my eyes and reached out for it but kept snatching at air, missing it by milliseconds. After a few attempts, though, I managed to grab hold of it with the tips of my fingers. Once it was in my grasp, and while she was swaying back and forth on her own giant pendulum, Scarlet somehow managed to help me manoeuvre myself into a sitting position. ‘Loosen up, let yourself go,' she said. ‘I know that's against instinct, but that's the trick. Go with it, don't fight it.'

Finger by finger, I relaxed my grip. I was still holding tight, but less tensely, and I found myself easing into the rhythm of soaring from one side of the ring to the other. The more I relaxed, the more I actually enjoyed it, until I noticed other people coming inside. Now the space was no longer just ours, I tensed up again and slipped off the swing, ending up dangling from the harness, floppy and uncoordinated as a ragdoll. Fabian caught hold of my legs and slowed me down until I was back on the ground with my blood still pumping like crazy.

‘You did well, Rosie,' he said, unharnessing me. ‘Very well for your first attempt. What do you think, Lola?' he called. She was standing close by, staring at me with narrowed eyes. ‘You know about the swings.'

Lola shrugged, but coming from her a shrug made me feel like I'd been paid the world's biggest compliment. Now I knew what had happened to her and Coco, I didn't blame her for being so hostile. Of course I didn't. She had to look out for her sister, didn't she? She'd had to become a parent to her little sister, and no one could blame her for being protective after being bullied in one country and made an outcast in another. Their story was one of the most heartbreaking things I'd ever heard, more than I imagined a person could cope with. I went up to her.

‘I'm sorry about what brought you here. Coco told me last night.'

‘That's none of your business,' she snapped.

‘I just wanted to tell you how brave I think you are. I mean, for doing what you did to help your parents.' As I turned away, she caught hold of my arm.

‘Wait,' she said. ‘Do you mean that?'

‘Course. I wouldn't have said it otherwise.'

‘It's just that  …  that –' She broke off. ‘It wasn't brave at all. It was stupid. It's my fault Coco died.'

‘You can't mean that. You mustn't even think it. It was an accident, wasn't it? It wasn't your fault, and you're here together, aren't you? You've given her this new life.'

I realised I sounded like Scarlet, but I was starting to see for myself that they were lucky to be here, and Lola confirmed that.

‘It
was
my fault,' she insisted, ‘but I do sometimes think it's better for us in the circus than it was in the other world. I'll never forgive myself for what I did to Coco, and for leaving Mother and Father, but people made us leave our homes and called us monsters there. That would never happen here.' She looked at her feet for a moment, then caught my eye. ‘I'm sorry I was nasty to you.'

I shook my head and smiled, to tell her it was OK. ‘But what about Freddie?' I asked. He was sitting near the edge of the ring with his back to the performance area. ‘Why hasn't he fitted in? Why does he still want to leave?'

‘Look at him. He never joins in. He never even tries.'

I felt even worse for the poor boy when Lola told me how he'd come to be here. He'd died in his work as a sweep, up a chimney, between fire and air. I went to him and asked if he wanted to try the trapeze with me, or anything he fancied, but he turned on me.

‘Do you think I give a damn about the trapeze, girl? Think you're so special, don't you? And now Mother's giving you a chance to go while I'm stuck here. Not my fault I can't do all that stuff with the moon and the sun, is it? Not my fault I died.'

He turned away, and I felt awful for having no words to make him feel better.

‘What did I tell you? Just leave him.' Lola touched my arm. ‘Do
you
want to try the trapeze again? I can show you how to move less like a dodo.' She raised her eyebrows and grinned.

‘You mean because they can't fly? Come on, I didn't think I was that bad. It was my first time, and I'm frightened of heights.' I smiled. ‘But, yes, I'd like another go.'

As she strapped me into the harness and I rose up over the ring, I realised it was pretty amazing that only one of all the people down there beneath me hadn't come to feel at home here. But that wasn't any help to Freddie. I really wanted to find some way to help him feel at home. Before I knew it, I was swinging like crazy again. Lola tried to persuade me to let go and swap swings with her midflight, but there was no way I could do that yet. I did hang from the bar by one hand, though, and when we finished she told me I still moved like a dodo but one that was trying to be a swan, which I took as a compliment.

I spent the rest of the day in the Top, watching Scarlet do acrobatics on her horse, and the Fabulous Fabianski juggle with fire, and the Wolf Brothers and Flamingo dancers and Dolly Dimple and everyone else do what they did, until Mother Matushka came and we drew down the sun and drew up the moon, and they lay down to rest. Then I went with her to the cottage and we sealed the hearth with earth and salt and I lay down near the fire. But even though I was exhausted, I couldn't sleep because my head was spinning with the thought that I was a moon closer to having to go through the hearth and leave them.

I woke up alone. The cottage door was ajar and I could see Mother Matushka's silhouette stretched across the grass, wavering in the skull-light. The wolf cubs were at her feet and there were birds' bodies strewn all over the garden. They were dainty little things, not like the massive crow-like creatures I'd seen here before. Their feathers were as bright as the roses round the door, a dazzling shock of blue. But their wings were bloodied and broken, their beaks shattered. My first thought was that the wolves had run rampage. ‘What happened?' I asked Mother Matushka.

‘A sign,' she said. ‘The death of hope, the end of innocence. But didn't we already know that? Hasn't the wheel of my world already turned? And as one era slips down, so another ascends.' She coughed and spluttered. She looked really ill. Her eyes were dull and sunk deep into her skull. ‘I drew them down to their deaths, that's what happened. I was disturbed by a terrible scratching on the roof. When I came outside, they gathered around me, all flapping and fretting, so I drew them down to calm them, but I drew them to their deaths.' She cradled one to her chest. ‘They crashed into the earth. All of them broken, all dead, and this is not a place of death. Nothing should die here. This is a place for blossoming.' She closed the bird's eyes and laid it on the ground. ‘You are a blossom. I am weak, as old as the earth and the mists and the marsh but, until now, I have never felt it. I have felt the wisdom of age, but not the weakness.'

I didn't know what to say. I felt bad I hadn't heard anything. ‘You should have woken me. Maybe I could have helped.'

‘I suppose you could, but don't fret, child. It's done with, and now it's time for the sun. I shall drink a drop of rose brew, then do the rising here. I don't have the strength to go to my Top just yet.'

She went inside and I got on with bringing up the sun myself. I couldn't bear to see her struggle again. I did the thinking, the feeling and the taking hold of the wheel well enough, but when it came to the pressing down part, I pushed far too hard and lost control. The light shot from the black of night to the purple of dusk in seconds, with only a flash of daylight sun in between.
Crap
. I heaved it back, like I was steering a huge ship, taking care not to pull too hard or let go too soon. I pulled until I felt it click into place. Then I held my grip steady for several minutes before letting go, scared it might slip away again. I breathed deep when it stayed where it was. Then I laid out all the bodies together in a corner of the garden, thinking this wasn't the first time I'd cleared up dead birds.

As I turned to join Mother inside, I heard something shuffle behind me. One of the birds was moving – fragile and dazed and newly hatched looking, but it was alive.

‘Look!' I cupped it in my hands. It was straining to move its beak, too weak to make a sound, but there was movement, there was life.

Mother rushed outside and took the bird from me. She nestled it in the sleeve of her cloak and brought it inside. ‘One survivor,' she said. ‘Or was it you?' she asked me. ‘Did your touch revive it?'

That seemed unlikely, as none of the others were alive and I'd touched them all, but she wasn't waiting for an answer. She was engrossed in tending to the little bird, so I got on with scattering the salt and the earth around the hearth for her.

‘That's it, child,' she said. ‘Be sure to sweep away any dust. The way must be clean for their passing, and for the fresh dolls.'

I swallowed hard. Was I really going to do it? Could I go through with them?

‘What exactly are the dolls for?' I asked. ‘Did you say they were called soul sisters, or something?'

‘Soul Mothers, that's what they are,' she explained. ‘As the dead pass through the hearth, their souls are captured in the dolls. There is no need of a soul through there, you see. Souls are life, through there is death, and they need to be separated. That is the way of things. That is always the way. There must always be a line.' She traced one in the air, from left to right.

‘So,' she said. ‘You have made up your mind? Knowing the risks and the unlikelihood of success, you are still fixed on trying to return to your world?'

As I nodded, I realised I didn't know for sure. I didn't know if I could. I didn't know if I should.

‘If
you
are
still planning to pass through,' she went on, as if she'd sensed my doubt, ‘you should join the procession of those who are passing through as they leave the Big Top and make their final journey to cross this threshold.' She gestured at the fireplace.

I shivered as I thought of actually having to do it, but that wasn't the only thing on my mind.

‘What will happen to you when I go? Will things go back to how they were before I came and messed things up?'

‘Truthfully, I do not know. Perhaps I will be strong again, or perhaps I still won't be able to raise the sun myself. And without that regular cycle, perhaps the carousel won't come, and the dead won't pass. I don't know. It has never happened before. You are a first.'

I felt sick with guilt. I'd done this – not deliberately, obviously, but it was my fault.

‘But these matters are mine, not yours, child. As you have said, this is not your world, but it
is
mine.' Mother Matushka looked me in the eye, and even though hers were tired and hollow, I saw a flash of fire in them, and it caught me. I was held in their glare. ‘But it is better to do what needs to be done than to wallow in imagining what might come to pass. And what I need to do now is watch over this bird, and I need you to check if Fabian has the new dolls ready.'

The air near the lake was cool and fresh, and the water clean and clear. Everything was calmer and the walking did my head some good, I think. Fabian was outside his hut with a brush in his mouth and green paint streaked in his hair. The dolls were laid out on a workbench in front of him.

‘They look amazing,' I said. ‘You're a pretty good painter.'

‘Thank you, Rosie.' He smiled. ‘That's something I learned here. My wife used to paint them. They are almost ready, just a few more to finish decorating. But what happened with the sun just now? I saw the light come up, and then fall dark for a moment. Is everything all right?'

‘That was my fault. I moved it too far. Mother was shattered from drawing down the birds. It went wrong, they all crashed into the earth, and we thought they'd all died, but one of them started to move as I cleared them up. Mother's looking after it now. She sent me to see if the dolls are ready.'

I was fighting it, but actually seeing the dolls, all ready for the arrivals, was too much. A tear burst. I watched it drop onto Fabian's hand in extra-slow motion.

‘Rosie? What is it?' He put an arm round my shoulder and sat me on the bench, and I spilled how guilty I felt about what I'd done to the circus, and about what might happen if I left, and how awful I felt for even thinking I might stay and pass up a chance to go back to Mum and Dad.

‘Slow down, Rosie. Slow down.' He rubbed my back until I caught my breath. ‘I can tell you the facts I know. I can tell you I think you are more likely to have a life if you stay. Look at what you're doing here with Mother, and think of how you enjoyed the trapeze.' He smiled a sweet half-smile before his face fell serious again. ‘But I can also tell you that if I were you, I might be tempted to try to go home, which I know is no use to you at all. Only you can know what is right for you.' He shook his head. ‘I once lost someone very special because they went back to something. I wish I'd begged harder for them to stay. I wish they'd never gone.'

Him saying that made me wish he'd beg
me
to stay. I wish he'd come right out and say it and make my decision for me.

‘And then I never saw them again,' he explained. ‘I left that world soon after.'

‘What happened to you?' I sniffed. ‘If you don't mind me asking?'

‘It was many decades ago. The war was ending, we were told, but then a bomb hit our village and killed almost everyone. The few of us who survived fled towards the border, where things were supposed to be better. Accordienka was so excited when I pointed out the other country ahead of us that she ran off, into the no-man's-land between the two borders. I went after her, and that's when it happened. We were shot. She was first. She was still holding my hand when she fell to the ground, and as fast as this –' he snapped his fingers, and I jumped – ‘she was dead. And the next thing I knew, the last thing I remember, is my eyes filling with blood and the world blacking out in that grey, in-between place.'

‘I'm so sorry. But what about your other daughter, and their mum? Where were they?'

‘That was the person I should have begged to stay. My wife, their mother. She'd gone back to her own country, to take care of her sick mother. And as for my other daughter, I don't know what happened to her. She went with us towards the border, but she was a little way behind. She wasn't with us when we went into no-man's-land, so perhaps she survived, perhaps she lives on still. All I know is that my little Lilka did not come here with us.'

Lilka.
The name sent a bolt right through my heart.
It is time for me to join those I left behind, my Bear and my girls, my Anastazja and Lilka.
That's what Granny's letter had said. I could see her spidery writing now. In that instant, hearing that name, after all the stuff about the war, and a bomb, and a sick mother, made my whole world explode and come together at the same time. I could hardly get the words out.

‘Did – did Accordienka have a different name before she came here, before the Circus? Did she used to be called Anastazja, or something?'

‘Yes. Did she tell you? She hasn't been called that for many years. Her mother chose the name, and the strange thing is that Anastazja means “reborn”, which I suppose is what has happened to her. What is it, Rosie? You look like you've seen a ghost.'

And the thing was, I
had
practically seen a ghost, and she was standing just a few feet away, holding her doll and singing to herself in a language I now knew must be Polish. I took Granny's doll from my pocket and passed it to Fabian.

‘Where did you get this?' His brow was all crumpled, and his eyes kept darting from me to the doll. I couldn't tell if he was angry or upset. ‘I made this for the girls' mother. There were two sets, three dolls in each. Before she left, my wife gave each of the girls the smallest.'

‘And I bet the dolls in the other set had blonde hair and blue shawls, and I bet they have the same words carved underneath as the one you're holding.'

Fabian still wasn't getting it, and who could blame him? It was mad, but now I'd worked it out, I couldn't believe I hadn't realised earlier.

‘My grandmother gave me two sets of dolls just before she died, with only two dolls left in each. I put one of mine in her grave, but I kept this one, and my sister has the two blue dolls. Do you know what that means? You're him, aren't you?' I took hold of his arm. ‘You're the man she loved, you're her Bear. I know it. I know Granny's girls were called Anastazja and Lilka. I read it with my own eyes.'

Once I'd started I couldn't stop. It was like a river had burst. I just kept thinking of more things that were falling into place and churning up, all at the same time. ‘Your wife's name was Dorothy Rose, wasn't it? That's what the “DR” carved into the dolls stands for. Same initials as me. Dorothy Rose is my real name.'

‘Yes, that was her name. I called her my Różyczka, my little Rose, and I was her Bear. But how can this be? It
can't
be.'

Fabian's eyes welled up. He ran his fingers through his hair, and I just wanted to tear mine out. I hated seeing him upset like this, but I had to get him to believe me. What more could I say?

‘Hang on. Look at this.' I unfastened my necklace and handed it to him. ‘She was looking for it just before she died. I found it afterwards, with some letters from you, and some babies' shoes. They must have been your daughters'
shoes.'

I thought he was going to pass out when he saw the necklace. He stumbled and collapsed onto the bench.

‘I made this for her,' he said, stroking the charm. ‘I gave it to her before she went back to England. This is impossible.
Impossible
.'

‘What was her favourite dress?' I asked in desperation. ‘She was wearing it in a photo taken outside a cabin, by a lake.' As I said it, I realised something else: they'd both recreated their lives with each other; Granny with her cabin next to the house, and Fabian with this hut by the lake.

‘I remember that day well. There were not many photos. She wore a yellow ribbon in her hair, and her dress was green, and patterned with dots.'