Page 32 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

‘We’d need a hinge,’ Michel said, his voice quieter than he would have liked.

‘A hinge? I’ll go and ask one of the men to give me one. Maybe you nail the boards together whilst I’m gone?’ She smiled again.

‘I can do that.’

‘Good. Be back in a minute.’

As soon as she was gone, Michel set to with the boards. I can do that. Is that what he had really said – is that all he could muster? Like a child. I can do that. What was wrong with him?

He took a nail and hammered it into the wood. It split and he had to try again. He suddenly thought of the butcher’s daughter, Estelle, of the way he could talk to her with ease, even in front of her father. Then of Odélie, and of the women from Odette’s café. He had said more to them – talked of music, of life. He had made jokes – yes, jokes! One woman – Adele, was it? – she had said he was funny.

He took another nail and splintered the wood again.

‘Here, a hinge.’ Frieda held it over his shoulder.

He took it from her, his fingers touching hers, and felt the words fall away once more.

‘I’ll hold the nail in place. Maybe that will help?’ She bent down in front of him and they worked silently for a few minutes, save from the knock of the hammer on each nail.

When they were done, Michel sat back.

‘I should have asked the men, you know, to do this… that’s what Werner would have done.’

‘But you didn’t,’ Michel said.

She sat back too, her bottom on the ground, her legs pulled up so she could rest her forearms on her knees.

‘I like Beau. I was the one who told Werner to buy him. No one wanted him, did he tell you that?’

Michel shook his head.

‘He was going to be shot. They said he had too much spirit. But I liked him; I saw something in him that reminded me of someone. So, I got my way. And now it is my responsibility to keep him safe. That’s why I didn’t ask for help. He’s mine. I want him safe.’

‘I’ll keep him safe for you.’

‘I know you will. I can see it in your eyes.’

‘Can you bring Claudette to the tent?’ Odélie appeared behind Michel, her voice loud and harsh.

‘Claudette?’

‘Yes. To the tent. Now. We are rehearsing.’

‘Sorry, he was helping me.’ Frieda stood.

‘Werner wants us all.’

‘I’ll finish this later,’ Michel said.

‘Claudette? Michel! I need her now.’

Michel turned to Odélie and went to Claudette, seeing the shadow of Frieda disappear out of the corner of his eye.

‘What were you helping with?’ Odélie asked as Michel fixed the bridle onto Claudette.

‘A door for Beau.’

‘Just a door? Why was she doing it?’