Page 121 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

‘It looks a bit…’ He cocked his head to the side as he viewed the muted colours of the Big Top, the peeling paint on the signs for the smaller tents, and the faded bunting that marked the pathways around the field.

‘At night, it looks wonderful. It will come alive. We have lights to string up, torches, even fireworks,’ Michel reassured him.

‘It’d better,’ Wolff said, hitching up the waistband that had slipped below his paunch.

‘Herr Wolff!’ Frieda appeared, her hair brushed and shining, her eyebrows shaped and rouge on her cheeks.

Suddenly the brigadeführer’s face changed. A smile, then a quick wipe of the sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief.

‘Mademoiselle,’ he purred, and kissed her hand.

‘May I show you the elephant and lion we have for your darling wife’s birthday surprise?’

‘You may indeed.’ He offered his arm for her to take.

As she walked away, she turned quickly and winked at Michel. He grinned at her. The ringmaster was no one without Frieda.

That evening the troupe sat around a campfire, sharing stories, cups of cheap wine and bottles of beer.

Around them, workers strung up lights, attaching them to large poles so that the entire camp was soon illuminated by thousands of small white lights that gently swayed in the evening air.

Michel sat slightly apart from the group with Henri, who had brought his own bottle of Burgundy, a 1904 Clos du Roi, that he had been saving for a special occasion.

‘You know, Michel, I have missed the circus,’ Henri said. ‘It had been too long.’

‘Why did you stay away?’

Henri drank and looked above him. ‘Those stars – I forget to look at them. Frieda told you about Paris. About the time Werner helped me. It was a hard time for me. It has been a hard time for me since. You see, Michel, I was in love.’

‘With one of the rich women?’

Henri laughed. ‘They were my friends, the women. My very good friends. We enjoyed each other’s company. Most of them were older than me, widows with fortunes who needed some fun in their lives. I provided that for them. Ah now, Michel, don’t look at me like that. We loved each other in our own ways, and we used each other. But I was not in love with them. I was in love with someone else. Someone who was part of Werner’s circus, even before Werner became ringmaster. We met in Hungary. We fell in love as soon as we saw each other.’

‘Frieda mentioned you travelled with them.’

‘I did. Werner knew of my feelings, of the relationship that had developed. He saw us once and I told him the truth. As he kept my secret safe, I helped him inherit the circus, gave him money. But it was a friendship – it was not bribery at all. I would return to my wife, first in Hungary, and then when she died I married once more – a widow in Paris. She enjoyed the shows, the magic of it all. She knew I was in love with someone else, and she understood.’

‘Why did it have to be a secret? Was the woman married?’

‘Have you finished your wine? I have one more bottle. Here, uncork it.’

Michel did as he was told yet did not refill his own glass – only Henri’s.

‘Look who has found her way back,’ Henri said, nodding towards the Big Top where Odélie stood chatting to a junior soldier who had been assigned to place the names on the reserved chairs in the tent.

Michel saw her rest her hand on his arm and laugh at something he said. When he moved back inside the tent to continue his work, Odélie went over to the group, smiling and waving as if she had been away on holiday.

‘Odélie,’ Michel said as she stopped in front of him.

‘Michel! I hear you are the new ringmaster. You know, word spreads around Paris so quickly, and I just had to come back to perform – I knew you would need me.’

‘Not so,’ Henri said. ‘We have enough performers.’

Her smile fixed in place, Odélie did not move. ‘Ah Henri, you are so funny. Always telling jokes. I’ll go and see my triplets, make sure they have not missed me too much.’

‘How quickly you make friends, Odélie,’ Henri said. ‘He’s a bit young for you, don’t you think?’

‘Herr Weber is a courteous young man, not like some. He is going to take me to dinner. There’s nothing wrong with that.’