Page 120 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

‘Over there.’ Jean pointed to three boxes in the middle of the ring.

‘Where?’

‘Inside.’ Jean smiled for the first time in days. He walked over to the boxes and lifted each lid, then tipped them gently onto their side.

The troupe could now see the three people inside, their limbs impossibly woven around their bodies. One by one they escaped from their prisons and began to crawl, spider-like, their knees and elbows bent at strange angles. Then they transformed themselves once more, this time into balls that rolled around the ring before they popped their heads out and began to crawl again.

‘Brilliant! Excellent!’ Michel clapped.

‘There’s just Bastien and Camille now,’ Jean said. ‘But they won’t be ready until later.’

‘Thank you, Jean. We will run through the whole thing at seven p.m. sharp.’

The troupe groaned.

‘I know it feels rushed, but the more we practise the easier it will become. You will then break for one hour and we’ll do another run-through, as this was a little thin. Tomorrow I want you here at six in the morning. Final costume fitting in the afternoon. Full run-through, make-up, band, lights. Then two more full run-throughs on our final day. You’ll have one night of rest, and then we need to be up and running by six p.m.’

‘I thought we were just working for the show?’ the little boy complained.

‘The whole town and the brigadeführer’s guests will be expecting food, drinks, fortune tellers, magicians, clowns, everything, right up until our show. You have been paid for it.’

‘Should have asked for more,’ the boy muttered under his breath.

‘Right. Back here. Seven o’clock!’ Michel left, holding the running order notes in his hand, feeling the sweat dripping down his back.

‘You did beautifully.’ Frieda caught up with him and held his hand.

‘I can’t believe I did it.’

‘You have found your calling, Michel.’

He kissed her on the cheek, then whispered, ‘Only if you stay by my side.’

‘Always.’

The following day, Michel sat with Jean drinking coffee as the troupe ate breakfast in the new canteen tent – a new cook and three helpers serving hot porridge and toast.

‘How did he do this?’ Michel asked. ‘In just a few days? I’m starting to think that Henri may be a magician.’

‘If you have money, you can buy yourself anything – even during these times. That’s Henri’s magic power – money.’

‘Thank you for last night, Jean – the prompts and things during rehearsals.’

‘I have little else to do. My act is now just me – no one wants to see a tall man wander around on his own. It scares people.’

‘Surely that’s a good thing?’

‘In what way?’

‘Our theme is the Day of the Dead. How about we have you dressed as Death himself? You know, we can make you look like a skeleton – a hooded figure. What do you say?’

‘It doesn’t seem right without Giordano.’

‘Henri says he is working on it. You need to have faith – he will find him and bring him home.’

Jean only nodded and drank his coffee.

On the last day of rehearsals Brigadeführer Wolff came to visit.