Page 130 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

A loud bang echoed around the tent and then smoke appeared in front of Michel. The audience were silent. When the smoke dispersed, instead of Michel they were greeted with Camille the elephant, on top of whom stood Stephanie, her costume of gold sequins catching the light.

The crowd erupted with applause, and Stephanie rode Camille around the ring as a procession of performers entered the tent.

First Bastien the lion jumped through hoops, then the fire eater touched them and made them burst into flame. The crowd oohed and aahed. Then from above there was a shout, and everyone looked up to see Frieda sailing through the air, all in white, her face dotted with crystals and sequins so that she glimmered as she flew.

Below her, the acrobats had appeared; they tumbled and twirled, juggled and danced, making the crowd disorientated.

Before they could take it all in, the performers dropped to the floor, looking as though they were dead, and Frieda fell from the sky like an injured bird to be caught in the net.

Michel rode Beau back into the ring, his nerves causing Beau to jitter and step backwards, then sideways.

‘As you can see, our performers have gone into the afterlife. But do not fear! Today is the day we can bring them back to us!’

With a round of applause, a figure appeared. A creature on stilts, head to toe in black, with only his deadened face and dark eyes to be seen. He asked the audience to chant words unknown to them, and as they did, the band picked up pace, the words spilling out faster and faster until there was a crash of cymbals, then all went black.

The spotlight came on, again pinpricking lights on each performer as they woke, missing out Frieda in her net.

The band struck up a Spanish tune that made the performers tumble and flip – they were alive and well! Now they moved quickly, seamlessly, and were joined by the triplets on horseback who flipped on and off Claudette. The mare rode well, her gait perfect, her nerves holding strong.

Then, just as the crowd were settling in for the show, the lights went out once more.

This time the audience clapped and jeered, for they thought they knew what was to come. Any minute now the lights would appear, and the troupe would take their bows. They clapped some more, and more… then slowly the applause stopped. There were murmurings of confusion in the crowd.

As Michel reached the back of the tent, he grabbed Frieda’s hand. Then, suddenly in front of them was Herr Weber – Odélie’s soldier friend.

‘What is happening? Where are the lights?’ he demanded.

Michel looked around. ‘They’ll come back on.’

‘I’m getting Wolff,’ Weber said, his smile thin, barely showing his teeth.

‘Wait, just wait!’ Michel grabbed Weber’s arm.

Weber pulled his arm away, and with a backhand slapped Michel so hard he fell to the ground.

Frieda gasped and bent down to help him.

Within seconds, two more soldiers appeared. One grabbed Frieda’s arms and pulled her to her feet. Michel was scrambling to stand when the other solider caught hold of him.

Suddenly, from inside the tent, they could hear a loud cheer as the lights reappeared and the band struck up a ditty. Laughter followed a cymbal crash – Hugo and the clowns. The show was not yet done.

‘See?’ Michel nodded towards the tent. ‘See.’

‘No matter. You can come and wait with us. I’m sure the brigadeführer will want to have a word with you after the show – thank you for everything.’ Weber smiled, this time showing his teeth.

Serge suddenly appeared and seized Weber, then punched him hard in the face. The other two soldiers let go of Michel and Frieda, and rushed to Weber’s aid. Each tried to grapple with Serge who moved quickly, first punching one, then forcing the other under his large arm, his head under his armpit.

‘Go! Go now!’ Serge hissed.

Michel saw Weber trying to get to his feet, the other soldier unconscious. Michel pushed Weber back down and kicked him hard in the ribs so that he yowled with pain and curled up into a ball. Serge gripped the other soldier’s head so tightly he passed out, then let him flop to the ground.

‘Serge, you must come with us!’ Frieda pleaded. ‘When they see what happened…’ She trailed off.

‘Don’t you worry about me, girl.’ Serge caught her in a quick embrace. ‘You go now. I’ll hide these three. Got some nice rope back there. I’ll keep them hidden – go now and be safe.’

Michel looked wildly around him; the music was swelling, the acts coming to a close.

‘Go! Go now!’ Serge urged once more. ‘There’s no time.’