The Regency (92 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

Tags: #Fantasy, #General, #Fiction

BOOK: The Regency
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‘Not until tomorrow?'

‘Earlier perhaps, if I am in luck. Your servant, ma'am.’

He bowed himself out, leaving Lucy feeling as though she
were suspended by a thread over a chasm.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
 

 
A theatre during the daytime is a shabby place, smelling of
dust and orange-peel; a place of unreality, a little sad,
haunted by the ghosts of images. Not so a circus: here by
day the hard work goes on, a real, down-to-earth matter
of exertion and sweat and limber bodies. So Morpurgo dis
covered when he obtained entry to Astley's Amphitheatre by
the simple method of sliding a half-crown into the hand of the
burly doorman who was trying to keep him out.


I've always wanted to watch a rehearsal,' Morpurgo said
blandly as the coin disappeared.


I never saw you, guv'nor. Musta slipped in be'ind me back,'
said the doorman, gazing at the sky.

Inside there was a powerful odour of sawdust, manure,
human sweat, and the prickling, foxy
smell
of caged animals.
In the middle of the ring the slack-wire was up, and the wire-
walkers were going through their balancing and stretching
routines. Under the proscenium a troupe of dancers was prac
tising, the regular thump of their feet unnaturally loud on the
wooden stage in the absence of music; while down in the orchestra pit a lone musician was monotonously tuning a
harp.

Morpurgo viewed it all with sharp interest, keeping as far
as possible in the shadows and effacing himself, though no-
one seemed disposed to pay any attention to him. He guessed
that visitors of one sort or another were not uncommon, and
that the doorman was more often looking at the sky than he
would be likely to admit to his employers.

He didn't quite know what to do next. The idea of the
circus had come to him like an inspiration, for in thinking
of the visit he had paid here in Africa's company, he remembered suddenly how enthusiastic she had been, how she had
spoken of nothing else for hours. If she had hidden herself, he reasoned, it must be somewhere that she could earn her living,
amongst people who would not be likely to give her away, or
to question her antecedents.

Africa was used all her life to dealing with the lower orders,
in the shape of seamen, and knew how to get on with them
and talk to them; she had also, since she could walk, run up
and down ratlines, climbed and scrambled over spars and
bowsprits, and balanced on footropes in a display of agility
and control any circus tumbler might envy. There was also
the consideration that if she had gone to Portsmouth, someone must have seen her. Morpurgo considered it impossible
for her to have gone there and got aboard a ship without any
one's noticing; and if she didn't go to Portsmouth, the next
most likely place was London. In London a person had more
chance of concealing themselves; and there was also constant
news about the comings and goings of His Majesty's ships.

So far so good; but if she were here, how was he to find
her? She would not have given her real name, so to ask for her
by it would be futile, and he suspected that enquiries on his
part would only bring about a closing of the ranks amongst
the circus people, and a look of blank ignorance on every face.
His best plan was to wait and watch and see if she appeared,
and if she did, to approach her quietly, if possible without her
knowing. If she did not, he must think of some plausible
excuse for searching further, in the hidden back quarters.

After some time, the slack-rope walkers finished their exer
cise, and there was an argument between a stout man whom,
by his moustaches, Morpurgo took to be the ringmaster, and
the mechanics, who, it seemed, didn't want the trouble of
taking down the apparatus and later erecting it again. The
ringmaster eventually raised his voice and his fist and stamped
his foot a little, and the wire was taken down and the ring
cleared. Shortly afterwards six black horses were led in by
grooms and released, to canter around the ring under the
direction of a muscular man with a long whip who stood in
the centre and shouted orders at them.

Without the music, the routine had a curiously soporific
effect. Morpurgo had sat down on a half-barrel in the shadows
of a corner. It was hot and a little stuffy in the amphitheatre,
and watching the black horses circle and reverse and do
their simple manoeuvres, made complex only by the fact of
their doing them in unison, he found his eyelids drooping. He
must have drifted off to sleep for a moment, for he jerked
awake as his chin slipped down onto his chest, and looked guiltily towards the ring, to see that the black horses were
being led out again, nodding their heads and snorting the
dust from their flared nostrils. In the ring-entrance they were
passed by another horse coming in, a big, heavily-built,
broad-backed horse, being ridden astride by a slender and
evidently feminine figure.

The Equestrienne! he thought. And then his heart lurched,
and he rose involuntarily to his feet, as he realised why the
figure looked so familiar — not because he had seen her perform
before, or at least, not in this particular way. Even from
this distance he could not mistake her, though her dark hair
was bound up in a scarf like a gypsy, to keep it out of her
eyes. So his guess had been right! He was filled with relief,
and also with admiration for her resourcefulness. She had
come to the one place where her particular, peculiar talents
could be utilised.

The big horse began to canter slowly round, and Morpurgo
watched, fascinated, as Africa stood upright, and balanced
lightly on the balls of her feet on the gently-bouncing rump.
It was nothing to her, he thought, after balancing on the yard-arm of an unpredictably-heaving ship. As she went
through her practice, he began to edge nearer, making his
way forward and sideways towards the archway through
which the artists had been coming and going, which led,
presumably, to the stables and beast-quarters. He was standing
there when, having finished her routine, Africa jumped down lightly to the sawdust, rewarded the big horse with a piece of
carrot, and led him out of the ring.


Miss Haworth,' he said softly. She started so violently that
it made the horse snort with alarm, and she turned to him,
eyes wide. 'Hello, Africa,' he said.


Morpurgo!' she exclaimed, staring as though she couldn't
believe her eyes; and then she began laughing. 'Of all people! What are you doing here? How did you find me? Does anyone
else know I'm here?’

Before he could answer any of the questions, somebody shouted at her to move the horse, and she said, 'I must put
him back in his stall — it's the rule, they mustn't be kept
standing about.'

‘I'll come with you,' Morpurgo said firmly.


All right,' she said, and laughed again. 'I won't run away
from you. I'm glad to see you, in fact. How did you find me?'


I've only just heard that you were missing,' he said, falling
in beside her. 'As soon as I heard, I thought of the circus — it
seemed obvious.'


Not to anyone else, evidently,' she said, walking the horse
through the archway and down a wooden tunnel. ‘So, I sup
pose the game is up — you've come to fetch me home again?'


No-one knows where I am yet,' he said. 'But you can't
imagine how unhappy you've made everyone. Your father,
Africa — he must be grieving for you, thinking you're dead.’

She looked surprised. 'But I wrote to him when I wrote to
Aunt Lucy, to say I'd be quite all right, and that I'd see him
when he came home.'


I don't think he ever got that letter,' Morpurgo said. 'But
even if he had, he must have feared the worst when you had
disappeared so completely. No-one knew if you were alive or
dead. Your poor aunt has obviously been worried almost to
death.’

Africa looked stubborn. 'I'm sorry, I never meant to worry
her. But I couldn't stay at the school any longer. You can't imagine, Peter! It was dreadful. Shut up like a cage-bird, I
thought I should die. I
would
have died! I had to get out.'

‘And so you came here?’

They passed from the tunnel into the stables, a long building
lined with stalls on either side.


I thought I could do something — tumbling or wire-
walking or something,' she said, leading the big horse into a
stall on the right, and attaching pillar-ropes to his headcollar.
‘I didn't mind what it was, as long as I had somewhere to
live and enough to eat. As it was, I was very lucky. The
Equestrienne — you remember, we saw her perform the night
we came here?' He nodded. 'Well, she'd got pregnant, and
couldn't go on working much longer, and I said I could learn her tricks in a few days. They didn't believe me at first, but I
did it, and they were so pleased, because she was their biggest attraction, and they thought they'd never replace her.’

Morpurgo shook his head in wonder. 'Africa, you're
amazing!'

‘Not at all — it's simple stuff. Anyone could do it, as long
as they could balance and understood horses. I used to do
horseback tricks for Sophie when we were at Morland Place.'
A wistful look came over her. 'How is Sophie? I do miss her.'


You'll be able to find out for yourself soon,' he said
pointedly.

She frowned. 'You mean to take me back? But Peter, I
can't go back. Aunt Lucy will send me back to school.
Besides, they need me here. It's not likely they'll find another Equestrienne, just like that.’

He looked obdurate. 'You know you have to go back,' he
said. 'If it helps, I don't think your aunt will send you back to
school. I think you've made your protest sufficiently strongly.
You can't stay here, Africa, you must see that.'


Well, I must do tonight's performance, at least, and tell
them that I'm going. It wouldn't be fair.'

‘I can't let you,' he said.


You said no-one else knows you're here?' she said. 'Well,
then, one more night can't hurt, can it? You can come and
watch my performance, if you like, and then take me away
afterwards.' She sighed, arid stroked the big horse's nose. 'It
will be so dreadful to go back, but I suppose I always knew I'd
be found sooner or later.'

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