Page 117 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

Werner was sitting up in bed when Michel entered the quiet bedroom, a thick flurry of pillows propping him up, a book on his lap.

‘Michel.’ Werner looked to him.

‘Am I disturbing you?’ Michel glanced at the book, unopened.

‘Not at all – please.’

Michel sat on the chair next to his bed, the cushion still warm under his backside.

‘You just missed your friend Bertrand. A nice man – full of tales.’

‘He has a fair few stories, I’ll grant him that.’

‘Henri gave me this.’ Werner held up the blue leather-bound book. ‘Poetry, of all things.’

‘You don’t like it?’

‘I cannot concentrate.’ Werner looked to the window as if expecting something.

‘It’s going well – the preparations.’

Werner only nodded.

‘Do you miss it?’

‘What?’ Werner turned to him.

‘The circus, the show? I wish you could be the ringmaster.’

Werner started at him for a moment or two, and Michel wondered if he was angry.

‘I’m sorry,’ Michel said, unsure exactly what he was sorry for.

‘Bertrand spoke of his wife when he was here.’

‘She was a good woman.’

Werner nodded. ‘It made me think of Éva.’

‘You miss her.’

‘More than you can imagine. I kept myself busy all those years after she left, and then when Frieda came it was almost like a part of Éva came back to me. It made me happy, but sad at the same time. She looks so much like her.’ Werner smiled. ‘Sometimes when she performs, I think it is Éva up there, ready to tumble to earth and come back to me. Sounds foolish, doesn’t it?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘I’ve kept her safe all these years – Frieda. But she’s a woman now, isn’t she?’ Werner shook his head as if he had just realised. ‘A woman. Almost twenty-one. Sometimes she acts like a forty-year-old, you know – bossy!’

‘I wonder where she gets that from?’ Michel laughed.

‘Indeed! Ah, to be the boss means to be bossy, Michel. Are you making sure you are bossing them about out there? You need to keep a tight leash on them, you know? Hugo will sneak away and drink if you let him. And the triplets, they seem docile enough, but they get distracted easily. They always reminded me of puppies – how they see a stick or a fly buzzing in the air and they cannot contain themselves. They’re just like that. Keep an eye on them.’

Michel nodded and tried to contain a yawn.

‘Tired already?’ Werner chuckled. ‘You just wait. This is only, what – day two? When are you rehearsing?’

‘Tonight. We’re just waiting for the Big Top to be anchored a bit better – seems a new tear appeared at one of the seams.’

‘Get them to go through it at least twice tonight,’ Werner warned. ‘The first time will be like trying to herd sheep. The second will give you a better clue where you are and what needs to be done.’