Page 78 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

Gehring smiled. ‘It is better when it is said loudly. At the rallies, where there are thousands shouting this. Ihr Deutsch ist gut.’

Michel looked confusedly at Frieda – her German sounded perfect, strong, confident. He saw her smile and blush at the compliment.

‘A few days… OK. You have something in the bag, you say? A gift for me?’

Michel passed him the bag and the bottles of wine. He placed the money flat on the bar, and Gehring’s hand snatched it away so fast that it was as though it had never been there.

‘We should be going.’ Michel scattered a few coins on the bar for his coffee.

‘Tomorrow night,’ Gehring said, his mouth full of pastry once more.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘Tomorrow night. In the square. Entertainment. I like magic shows especially.’

‘Of course.’ Michel nodded. ‘Tomorrow.’

As they left, the gummy man, Armand, from Michel’s first visit to the town was pulling out a chair and settling himself down.

‘Back again? And you brought another?’ Armand said.

‘Monsieur.’ Michel smiled.

‘Don’t you Monsieur me! Tell Lucien I know what he is up to! Gehring! Gehring! What do you make of this nonsense, then? All these performers…?’ He spat the words onto the floor.

Gehring shouted from inside, ‘Monsieur Armand, I have it all in hand. Don’t worry.’

‘Ha! See! He will sort you out!’

‘I am sure he will, Monsieur Armand.’

‘Tell Lucien I am here, and I am waiting. I do not like him, not one bit. But he plays backgammon well. Tell him! Can you do that?’

‘We will,’ Frieda sang, and took Michel’s arm as they walked through the square, Coquette once more trailing behind them.

‘You seem angry at me,’ Frieda said after a while.

‘I’m not.’

‘Don’t lie.’

Michel glanced at her, then turned to look at his feet as they walked. ‘Why do you stay with Werner?’ He kicked at a stone.

‘I have no choice.’

He stopped and, sensing his chance, he took it. ‘You do. We could leave together.’

‘And go where?’

‘I don’t understand what you want from me, Frieda!’ he suddenly said, his voice edged with desperation. ‘You are with him, but I know you want something more with me. You held my hand; you rest your head on my shoulder like you want to be with me—’

‘Hush,’ Frieda soothed. ‘Yes. You know how I feel. I know how you feel. Can’t that be enough for now? Please, Michel, walk with me, enjoy this moment. Who knows what will happen or what can happen? Things are changing so much around us – soon it could change for us too. Please. Trust me.’

She looked into her eyes and knew he would do anything she asked of him. He stepped up to her and kissed her, his arms pulling her to him, her body relaxing for a moment into his.

Gently, she pulled away and took his arm once more, ready to resume their walk. ‘I like Monsieur Armand,’ she said.

‘The toothless man?’