The Sequin Star (5 page)

‘Roll up to the Grand Dining Hall of Sterling Brothers Circus,' invited Jem. ‘Pull up a perch.' He gestured to several wooden crates and chairs positioned around the fire. Claire sat down and looked around.

A man strode past wearing a black top hat and tailcoat with a long, scarlet-lined cape over the top. His dark hair was slicked back with oil, away from his heavy eyebrows, and he had a fine waxed moustache. He pulled his white gloves off as he walked past.

With a sweep of his hand the gloves transformed into a bunch of hot-pink paper flowers. Another sweep of his hand and the flowers disappeared, leaving him once again holding nothing but white gloves. He winked at Claire then strode off, his cape swirling.

Jem rolled his eyes. ‘That's Manfred the Magnificent,' he explained. ‘Our master illusionist who thinks he's the cat's meow. He's rather fond of making rabbits disappear and sawing pretty girls in half, so watch out.'

Claire laughed. ‘He does look rather magnificent. How on earth did he turn the gloves into flowers?'

Jem tapped the side of his nose. ‘A magician never reveals his secrets.'

Rosina bounded down the caravan steps. She had washed off the make-up and changed out of her American Indian costume into everyday clothes.

Rosina sat down on a chair by the fire. Lula climbed into a small child's chair by Rosina's feet.

‘What delights has the cookhouse provided tonight?' Rosina asked Jem. She handed Claire an enamel plate and a spoon.

‘Mutton and bunny stew, with potatoes and carrots,' said Jem as he ladled some onto his plate. Claire thought he was joking.

‘Mmmm,' Rosina replied, taking the ladle from Jem. ‘Meat tonight. That's a good sign.'

‘Last night was indeterminate gravy with bread crusts,' explained Jem, handing Claire the plate of bread. ‘Lucky Jaspar and I caught those rabbits this morning. I have a handy way with a shovel, which is just as well or we'd hardly ever eat meat.'

Rosina ladled out a plate of stew. Claire looked at Jem in confusion. ‘A shovel?'

‘We find a burrow and dig,' explained Jem. ‘We usually dig up a few fat, little rabbits. When we get to Sydney I have a lovely pile of rabbit skins to sell. Frank says we can get two shillings a pelt in the city. They make swanky felt hats for the gentlemen.'

Claire peered into the pot when it was handed to her. Suddenly she didn't feel quite so hungry anymore. She picked out some vegetables and tried to avoid the meat.

‘She's a bit fussy,' commented Jem, noting Claire's reticence. ‘Perhaps we should be calling you Princess Claire. Although two princesses in one circus camp might be a bit much.' He grinned at Rosina with a mock bow.

‘I'm . . . I'm just not that hungry,' Claire tried to explain. She nibbled at the hunk of buttered bread.

‘More for us then,' said Rosina. ‘Although tomorrow we might be back to gravy for tea. There wasn't a huge crowd tonight, so I hope we made enough money to cover tomorrow's petrol.'

The two circus performers began to eat with gusto. Jaspar watched them both hungrily. Claire ate a little.

‘Jaspar will happily eat that if you don't want it,' suggested Jem. ‘He deserves a good feed, having helped provide it, don't you, boy?'

Jaspar's tail thumped on the ground at the mention of his name. He watched Claire with hopeful eyes, rocking from paw to paw in anticipation.

Claire smiled at Jaspar and put her plate on the ground. ‘Come on, boy. One of us might as well enjoy it.' Jaspar wolfed down the stew in seconds.

‘So what did you do in the circus ring tonight?' asked Claire.

‘I did nothing
in
the ring,' explained Jem, pulling a tragic face. ‘I sold tickets, played the violin in the band, and sold ice-cream and popcorn during intermission. I am merely a trainee acrobat and juggler.'

‘And a good one,' Rosina assured him.

‘It is Princess Rosina who is the star of the show,' added Jem. ‘She is our circus equestrienne extraordinaire – dancing on horseback, riding rearing elephants and masquerading as a wild Indian maid called Red Winona.'

Claire smiled. ‘It sounds wonderful.'

‘Of course Rosina was magnificent, except for that wobble on the second circuit,' teased Jem. ‘It was the violin playing that was the highlight of the program.'

Rosina pushed Jem on the shoulder. ‘Ha! I did
not
wobble,' Rosina retorted. ‘And the violin sounded like drowning cats.'

Claire laughed at their teasing. ‘I would love to see you both.'

‘Perhaps tomorrow night,' suggested Rosina. ‘There might be a spare spot.'

‘Can you really dance on horseback?' asked Claire. ‘How did you learn to do that?'

Rosina's face lit up. ‘I started when I was nine, so I can dance as easily on horseback as you could dance on a tabletop.'

‘You started when you were nine?' asked Claire. ‘Wasn't that dangerous?'

‘Nine was a little late,' Rosina confessed. ‘A real circus girl would have started performing in the ring by four or five.'

Claire stared at Rosina in surprise. ‘What do you mean a “real” circus girl?'

Rosina pushed her hair off her forehead. ‘Most circus performers are born in the circus,' explained Rosina. ‘They are usually at least third or fourth generation circus people, like the Sterlings. Alf's grandfather ran a small dog-and-pony show that entertained the diggers on the goldfields, while Malia's parents were funambulists in Europe.'

‘Funambu-whats?' asked Claire, screwing up her nose.

‘Funambulists – high-wire walkers. Malia's mum used to dance on the tightrope, high above the ground, carrying a parasol. Malia was a high-wire performer until she had her third child. Malia's three kids are already performing in the ring every night. So you see, compared to circus families, Jem and I are lowly outsiders.'

‘You started earlier than me,' Jem retorted. ‘I didn't join the circus until I was thirteen, so I'll be lucky if I
ever
make it to be an acrobat.'

‘Your act is coming along well,' said Rosina. ‘I bet Alf will have you in the ring before the winter break.'

‘What's your act?' asked Claire.

‘Would you like to see?' Jem's face lit up with enthusiasm. ‘I can juggle, ride a unicycle, do some clown stunts and balance on a chair. None of them terribly well, though.'

Rosina rolled her eyes and smacked him on the shoulder.

‘Balance on a chair?' asked Claire. ‘I think even I could do that.'

‘Give me your chair, Rosina,' demanded Jem. ‘We'll see about that.' Rosina stood up and swapped seats with Jem.

‘Don't break it,' she admonished.

Carefully, Jem placed the chair so that it was stable, slightly away from the fire. He leapt up onto the seat, holding his arms out to the side.

‘He's good, isn't he?' joked Rosina. Claire laughed. Jem ignored her.

He put his hands on the seat of the chair and swung his legs into the air so he was doing a handstand, then he opened his legs out to each side into the splits. Claire could see the muscles in his arms straining as he corrected his balance with tiny movements.

Claire clapped. He leant his weight slowly to one side so that the chair rocked back on its two back legs. He now had one hand on the seat and the other on the back of the chair. The chair wobbled for a moment and then stabilised on its two legs. Claire held her breath. She felt that if she breathed she might unbalance him.

Jem raised his legs straight then shifted again so that he was balancing, upside down, on top of the chair, which was now standing on just one of the chair legs. Jem held the position for a moment before swinging his legs over and down, landing back on his own two feet beside the chair. He bowed to Claire and Rosina, and handed the chair back to Rosina.

‘Wow.' Claire clapped. ‘That's
amazing
. How did you learn to do that?'

‘Why, thank you.' Jem grinned at her. ‘Archie, one of the acrobats, taught me. I've been practising every day for the last year. I'm learning to tightrope walk, too. I have some ideas for a tightrope act that I think would be brilliant.'

‘So you've been with the circus since you were thirteen?' asked Claire. ‘Why did you join?'

Jem frowned and sat down on his crate. Jaspar put his big head on Jem's lap so he could be stroked. Jem massaged the big dog with his thumbs.

‘I ran away from home,' he explained with a nonchalant shrug. ‘I was the eldest of seven children. My dad lost his job, then the money ran out. We were evicted from our home and camped out in a park for a while. Then we built a little shack on some vacant land with some other homeless families. I left school and ran odd jobs for the carpenter. But then the work with him dried up as well.'

Jem moved his crate closer to the fire. He poked the coals with a stick.

‘One day the Sterling Circus came to town,' Jem continued. ‘One of the roustabouts offered me a free ticket if I'd do some odd jobs – chopping wood, carrying water, feeding animals. At midday they gave me a meal. It was the best food I'd had in weeks.'

Claire suddenly felt guilty at turning her nose up at the stew. She nodded.

‘In the afternoon there were a couple of benches that needed mending. I'd learned some basic carpentry skills, so I fixed them. That night I was given another meal, a few coppers and a ticket to the show. It was magical. I felt like I'd escaped from my grey, dreary life into another world. A colourful world. A world of possibility.' He pulled a comic face at Rosina.

‘The next day I came back and worked again, and the next and the next. When it was time for the circus to move on, I talked my way into a job, and I've been here ever since. I think they only gave me a job so I could keep Princess Rosina in line.'

‘As if they would. I had to teach him how to clean out an elephant yard,' Rosina added. ‘Now
that
is a horrible job! And how to tell the difference between a monkey and a lion cub.'

Claire couldn't imagine running away from home at thirteen. She thought of her parents and an overwhelming longing to see them washed over her. She missed them dreadfully. Claire mentally shook herself. Thinking of her mum and dad only made it worse.

‘What about your parents?' asked Claire. ‘Weren't they worried about you?'

‘My dad nicked off soon after we were evicted,' Jem confessed. ‘He went on the wallaby track, looking for work. We never heard from him again. Mum wanted to keep us in school, but there was no money for food or medicine. The little ones kept getting sick, living on little more than bread and dripping. At least this way I can send her money.'

Rosina nodded. ‘Jem sends almost all of his pay to his family.'

‘That's a big responsibility,' said Claire. ‘I can't begin to imagine what it would be like to support your whole family.'

‘I'll get to see them all in a few days when we're in Sydney.' Jem shrugged. ‘I haven't seen them for a year.'

‘That will be nice,' said Rosina. She had a wistful note in her voice.

‘What about you, Rosina?' asked Claire. ‘You said your name was Rosina Sterling. Are you related to the Sterling Brothers?'

Rosina leant back, crossed her arms and shook her head. ‘Lula is my family,' she said, stroking the monkey. ‘Rosina Sterling or Princess Rosina or Red Winona are my stage names. Most circus folk have a
nom d'arena
.'

Rosina straightened Lula's costume before continuing. ‘I was orphaned when I was nine. My parents were killed when a motorcar hit the horse and buggy they were travelling in. My father's sister raised me for a while, but it was difficult. She had a large family of her own, and not much money, so she gave me away to the Sterling family. Alf and Malia didn't have any children then, and they needed children to train for the circus. I've lived with them ever since.'

Claire inhaled deeply. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose both your parents in an accident. To be left all alone in the world. ‘I'm sorry, Rosina. That must have been terrible.'

Rosina pulled herself up tall. She smiled her showgirl smile. ‘It was a long time ago. But now I think we should get to bed. Lula is tired and tomorrow is moving day, so we have an early start. It's a longer drive than usual tomorrow – all the way to St Leonards in Sydney.'

Jem leant over and stroked Lula on the head. Lula chittered and chattered. ‘Gosh, if Lula is tired, we should all hit the sack as soon as we can. No one would dare cross the very important star of the show: Lula.'

Rosina smiled gratefully. ‘Come on, Claire. You can bunk in with Lula and me.'

5
Pull-down

Rosina woke Claire early the next morning. Claire stretched, feeling stiff all over. The bunk was hard and narrow with scratchy blankets and a lumpy pillow. She thought of her own bed at home with its squashy cushions and snuggly turquoise doona.

‘It's pull-down,' said Rosina. ‘We need to get everything packed up and ready to go.'

Claire yawned and rolled over. ‘But it's so early,' she mumbled.

Rosina stood over her bunk. She was already dressed in jodhpurs, boots and a blue shirt, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Lula scampered down and sat on Claire's feet, jumping up and down, as though to wake her up.

‘You'd better get moving or you'll be left behind. The boss won't let anyone stay on who doesn't pull their weight. You can come and help me with the horses.'

Claire groaned, then reluctantly sat up and looked around the caravan. On the table was a slice of bread smeared with margarine and a mug of milky tea.

A pair of jodhpurs and a short-sleeved shirt landed on the bed next to her. ‘You can wear some of my clothes,' Rosina said, hands on her hips. ‘Yours are grubby and way too unconventional for the country folk. They're shocked enough at my clothes as it is.'

Rosina dashed out the door. Claire looked at her dirty jeans and the singlet top she had slept in. She decided Rosina was probably right, so she pulled on the jodhpurs, along with her own brown ankle boots.

Outside the caravan was a bowl of water, where Claire washed her face and hands. She nibbled on her slice of bread as she crossed the lot.

Claire could see that the Big Top and the other tents had already been dismantled. Roustabouts were running back and forth to the lorries, carrying piles of canvas, perfectly coiled ropes, strings of flags, benches and equipment. She saw Jem rolling along a large elephant tub, with Jaspar panting along beside him. Jem grinned and waved at her.

Alf Sterling, the owner, strode back and forth, giving directions and barking orders. Claire slipped around the back to avoid him. She felt nervous of the imposing ringmaster.

The golden lionesses paced back and forth in their cage. The lion roared with anger. Dogs yapped and barked. The elephants trumpeted to each other at their pickets, swinging their trunks and flapping their ears.

Claire found Rosina in the field with the horses. There were six dazzling white horses with long manes and tightly plaited tails. In stunning contrast were the six coal-black horses. They were all graceful and muscular, and closely matched in size. Claire could tell just by looking at them that these were valuable, well cared for animals.

There were also half a dozen miniature ponies and five brown-and-white skewbald horses. Rosina was in the process of catching and tethering them to the fence.

Two of the white horses were bickering over a net of hay. ‘Move over, Florian,' scolded Rosina. ‘Stand up, Chantilly.' She rubbed Chantilly between the eyes as he snatched a wisp of hay from Florian's net.

Two horse trucks were backed up with their ramps down. A groom was spreading sawdust on the floor of one.

‘Do you want to give me a hand?' Rosina suggested. ‘Can you help me groom the horses?'

Claire hesitated, leaning on the other side of the fence. The horses looked enormous up close. ‘Do they need to be groomed before they go on the truck? Why don't we just do it when we get there?'

‘We'll do a parade when we get to the next stop,' Rosina explained, tossing a curry comb to Claire. ‘So everyone will have to look their best. You can start with Pluto.'

Claire ducked between the timber crossbars of the fence. She tentatively stroked the black horse with the curry comb. It stamped one hoof and whinnied, pulling back against the lead rope.

‘Not like that,' said Rosina. ‘You need to use firm pressure – like this – in big, sweeping circles. Put some muscle into it.'

‘What sort of horses are they?' asked Claire as she brushed Pluto's satiny coat. To her surprise, she found the repetitious work soothing.

‘The black and white horses are our liberty horses,' Rosina explained. ‘They are trained to run free in the ring, without bridles or saddles. The white ones, like Chantilly, are Lipizzaner stallions from Spain, while the black ones, like Pluto, are Friesians from Belgium.'

‘Aren't the stallions dangerous?' asked Claire. She wasn't used to animals and she felt nervous of the huge ones.

Rosina laughed as she lifted up one of the Friesian's shaggy hooves. It was the size of a plate. She started to clean out his hooves with a pick. ‘We always use stallions because they are so strong and showy. As long as we don't have any mares for them to fight over, they are mostly well behaved.'

The two girls brushed each of the horses until their coats gleamed in the sunlight. Rosina painted their hooves with black oil, and each of the horses had their long manes and tails in lots of little plaits tied with black ribbon to stop them from knotting.

‘We'll take the plaits out before the parade,' said Rosina. ‘They look splendid with their flowing manes and tails.'

It was an exhausting morning. The entire camp had to be packed up and loaded onto lorries. The caravans were hitched up behind cars and vans, which were to be driven by various roustabouts and performers. Lastly, the animals were loaded onto trucks. The cavalcade could now move out.

Rosina jumped in the front of one of the horse trucks behind the driver's wheel. Lula climbed up beside her and sat in the middle.

‘Jump in,' invited Rosina. ‘You can ride with me.'

Claire looked at Rosina askance. She kept her feet firmly planted on the ground. ‘Aren't you a little young to be driving a truck?'

Rosina shrugged. ‘I've been driving the truck since I was thirteen. Before that, I learned to drive the Model T Fords around the lot. We have so many vehicles that nearly everyone in the circus has to drive.'

Claire looked around. Everyone was already in their vehicles, ready to push on to Sydney. She slowly climbed up into the passenger seat. She reached to fasten her seatbelt, only to find there weren't any.

‘Do you have a licence?' asked Claire.

Rosina laughed as she turned the key in the ignition. ‘No, silly. As you said, I'm too young. I'm only fifteen, but I mostly drive on country roads. When we get into town I don't usually drive. I just ride Elsie in the parade.'

Rosina reversed the truck back carefully then swung it into position behind one of the elephant lorries.

‘Aren't you worried about getting caught?' asked Claire.

‘No,' said Rosina. ‘Alf just pays the fine. Anyway, the police officers are usually very kind. Hardly any women drive at all, so when people see a teenage girl driving a truck, they are so surprised they have to pick their jaws up out of the dust. Besides, we're from the circus – no one expects circus girls to be conventional.'

The long line of horse trucks, lorries, caravans and animal cages pulled out onto the road. The vehicles in front spun up a thick cloud of choking dust that swirled around the convoy. Claire wound up her window quickly.

‘It must be exciting,' said Claire. ‘Do you like travelling around?'

Rosina steered the large horse truck through the narrow field gate. The truck jolted as they drove down the ditch and then bumped up onto the dirt road.

‘Sorry, boys,' murmured Rosina in the rear-view mirror to the horses in the back. She turned to Claire. ‘I love travelling. I think that's the best part, actually – moving from town to town, seeing so many new people and places.'

Rosina waved her hand out the window at the dusty grey-green countryside.

‘We've crossed the Nullarbor, we've performed up the east coast and down the west coast, we've played in tiny country towns and huge, sophisticated cities,' said Rosina. ‘One day I'm going to perform in Paris and New York and Rome.'

Claire nodded. ‘I'd love to visit those places, too. My grandmother told me some wonderful stories about her travels when she was younger. She travelled all through Asia, Europe and America when she was just a few years older than me.'

The memory of Nanna's adventure stories was painful. It brought back the image of Nanna lying crumpled and small in the hospital bed, and Mum looking so sad and helpless. Claire quickly pushed the thought away.

‘You must meet some interesting people?' Claire asked quickly.

Rosina glanced at Claire, then turned her eyes back on the road. She stroked Lula's head.

‘Yes, we do, but the townies have a funny attitude to us. They love the excitement of the show, but they don't always like
us
. They don't think we're very respectable. I can't tell you how many times a local minister has complained about the indecency of the circus women showing their legs.'

Claire laughed in disbelief. ‘Do you mean like the costumes you wore last night?' she asked.

‘The very same,' Rosina grinned. ‘Ab-so-lutely shocking!'

The cavalcade progressed slowly over rough country roads, churning up clouds of red dust. Through the front windscreen there was little to see except the grey rump of one of the elephants in the lorry in front, and the dry bush on either side of the road.

Occasionally, they would pass a small group of men tramping west along the road. They carried billies and a few meagre belongings wrapped in a swag or blanket.

‘Swaggies,' Rosina said. ‘The poor men walk hundreds of miles, looking for a spot of work. There are more on the roads now than ever before.'

Claire stared at the thin men with grubby clothes and boots. They didn't look like the jolly swagmen she had seen in picture books with corks hanging from their broad-brimmed hats.

At first Claire felt nervous sitting up high in the big horse truck, with no seatbelts, driven by a girl not much older than herself. However, Rosina drove well and she soon relaxed.

The girls continued chatting about their lives. Claire found herself telling Rosina about her grandmother and her parents.

‘I'm an only child,' Claire explained. ‘My mum had me when she was quite a bit older. My parents are strict and won't let me do lots of things the other girls are allowed to do. My friend Amy has parents who aren't around all that much, so she goes out whenever she likes, stays up late, wears make-up and hangs out at the shops.'

The thought of Amy's freedom always made Claire feel frustrated with her own parents. Amy's mother was fashionable, gorgeous and carelessly indulged the girls. Claire loved spending time at Amy's house, where they could do pretty much whatever they liked.

‘My mum is always nagging me to do my homework and tidy my room,' Claire continued. ‘She fusses about me. She'd have a fit if she knew I was driving with you now.'

Rosina stared ahead through the dusty windscreen. She chewed her lip, then smiled. ‘They sound like they love you very much. You're very lucky.'

‘Yes, but –' Claire began. Then she remembered that Rosina was an orphan. She felt petty complaining about her own parents and their silly rules. She lapsed into silence.

The circus convoy trundled through a number of small country towns that looked poor and neglected. Shops were boarded up and empty. Passers-by stopped to stare at the passing procession. The country people looked thin and grey.

Claire smiled when she saw a couple of housewives pointing and gossiping about Rosina driving the truck. Lula waved at them out the window.

‘I see what you mean,' Claire observed. ‘They don't know what to make of you at all.'

‘It's all part of the act,' Rosina said flippantly.

In the mid-afternoon, after eight hours and a packed lunch on juddering roads, they pulled into the outskirts of Sydney. The cavalcade of trucks and lorries slowed down. There was a lot more traffic on the road – old-fashioned Model T Fords, vans and even the odd horsedrawn sulky. Claire stared around, noting the quaint, drab clothes. This Sydney seemed nothing like the Sydney that she knew from her own time. Everything looked foreign and strange.