Page 98 of The Ringmaster’s Daughter

‘Free, too.’ Giordano grinned at her.

Kacper sat feeding Gino small scraps of bread, his eyes watchful. Michel suddenly realised that he had never heard Kacper speak.

‘The doctor says Werner is fine for now. The fever has lessened, and he shall keep an eye on him,’ Henri said, smoking a cigarette as his guests ate.

‘Thank you,’ Frieda said. ‘You cannot know how much we appreciate it.’

‘How far are we from Paris?’ Odélie eyed Henri.

‘Ah, Odélie! How rude of me. How are you – you look tired?’ he joked.

Odélie’s face went puce. ‘How far are we from Paris?’ she said again.

‘Never one to take a comment on your looks, were you? We can all be tired from time to time,’ Henri teased, ‘you are still a beauty.’

‘Do not make me ask again.’

‘How far? How far? Let me think. A few miles – maybe fifteen, twenty, thirty? Who knows? Not far, my dear. Have you somewhere to be in Paris?’

They all looked to Odélie.

‘No. I only wondered.’

‘Good. Good. You have a nice place to stay for now.’

‘This is nicer.’ She looked around the room.

‘Ah, my dear, if I could have you as my house guest, I would. But, as you know, it would raise too many questions, too many. Better you stay where you are.’

‘How is it better? We are in plain sight.’

‘Right you are. Plain sight is better than hiding, as no one will think you have anything to hide. Anyway, I am working on things. In fact, Serge – we must go to Paris this evening. I have some friends, or rather some people, who may owe me a favour or two to sort out your situation.’

‘I am coming too,’ Odélie said.

The triplets looked to their faux maman, their expressions anxious.

‘Madame Rosie will mind you.’ Odélie’s voice was harsh, annoyed by their neediness.

The triplets looked over at Madame Rosie who smiled gently at them. Then, adopting her as ducklings adopt a mother duck, they were satisfied.

‘And my dear, what shall you do in Paris?’

‘See my family,’ Odélie said, but she did not look at Henri as she spoke.

Later that day, as everyone settled in, lit fires and cooked what little food they had, Michel took the horses to Henri’s stables where he fed and watered them, noticing how happy they were now they were warm and dry. He gave the letter for Bertrand to Henri, who promised to post it once in the city.

He sat and smoked in the barn whilst the others ate, strangely reluctant to go back to them.

He had just ground the cigarette butt under his boot when he heard footsteps approaching.

It was Kacper, Gino on his shoulder. He smiled at Michel.

‘You know, Kacper, I was thinking at breakfast that I have never spoken with you, not once. I realise how rude you must think me.’

Kacper shrugged. He patted Beau, then Bisou.

‘It’s all been a bit crazy, hasn’t it?’