A Fool and His Money (2 page)

‘Right, sir, will do.'

As the two men reached Berkeley Vale, Boase paused at yet another advert for the circus.

‘Do you think Irene would fancy this, sir?'

‘Why don't you ask her? I couldn't say, other than the last time we took her she was about eight; she cried so much Mrs Bartlett had to keep taking her outside.'

‘Why was she crying?'

‘She got upset about the animals – said they shouldn't be made to do tricks and suchlike. She said they should be in the jungle like the ones in her book.'

Boase smiled. That was just like his Irene; so sensitive and caring. Now he was worried she would say no. He'd ask anyway; if she didn't want to then they could always do something else.

Betty, Joan and Anne Warner passed around a bright red lipstick. Betty marked a thick stripe across the back of her hand.

‘This is lovely, Joan. Where did you get it?'

‘There's a little shop in the main street – near the church on the corner. They've got ever such a lot of nice things in there … think it's called Robertson's.'

‘Well, this is just perfect – can we borrow yours tonight? I haven't got time to go there now.'

‘Course you can. I didn't buy you one each 'cos I didn't know whether you'd like it.'

‘That's all right, Joan. Look, Anne – what do you think?'

Anne, the youngest of the three sisters, took the lipstick and looked at it. She handed it back to Betty.

‘Yes, it's very nice. I'll get one too.'

Betty put her hand on Anne's arm.

‘You all right, kid?'

‘Yes. Of course. Just a little nervous about tonight, that's all.'

The three Warner sisters had formed a juggling act when they were teenagers and had held shows in their back garden. When their parents died in an accident, the girls had used their skills to earn enough to support themselves. Then the circus came to their home town, Liverpool, and they were offered a place as an all-girl juggling act.

This suited Betty and Joan very well, but for Anne, who was now only seventeen, life was difficult and she missed her old friends back in Liverpool. She hated travelling around the country and didn't see the same adventure in the career that her sisters seemed to find. In short, she was a homebody. But then, as her sisters regularly pointed out, where
was
home? They had no home and no parents – so, for now, they told Anne to make the best of the situation.

Anne rose from her chair.

‘I think I'll go and see Clicker. I've got a cake for him. See you later.'

The girl left and made her way to the small caravan occupied by Clicker the Clown. She knocked on the door and waited. The door was soon opened and there stood the old man who had been the leading clown at this circus for over forty-five years.

‘Anne. How lovely to see you, my dear. Come on in – what's that you've got there?'

‘I've brought you a cake, Clicker – I know you love a jam sponge.'

‘You know me too well, young lady. I've just put the kettle on, so we'll cut your lovely jam sponge and have a cup of tea. Sit down.'

Ann pushed aside some clothes and sat in the small armchair while Clicker fetched the tea and a knife for the cake.

‘You all ready for tonight, Anne?'

‘Well … yes, I suppose so.'

‘Now, you don't sound very sure about that.'

‘You know I don't want this for the rest of my life, Clicker. It's fine for Betty and Joan, I think they rather like this life but, no, it's not for me. Oh! I'm
so
unhappy.'

‘There, there, Anne dear. Here, have this tea and we'll cut some cake. Here you are now.'

‘You know, Clicker, apart from you, there's no one else I even get on with in this beastly circus. It's all so hateful.'

‘Well, I suppose I'm used to this life, I've been doing it for so many years – and I can't tell you how many youngsters have told me all about their lives, in this very caravan. Some of them have stayed, some of them have gone on to other things. Yes, I've even seen half a dozen of them born here – right into this very circus. For some of us, it's a way of life.'

‘Well, it's not for me. As soon as I have enough money, I'm leaving this horrid place.'

‘I really wish I could help you, Anne. Really I do. But, well, with Margaret in the sanatorium in Switzerland … well, let's say it's costing me rather a lot of money. I can't really spare enough to visit her. But Molly says she's getting better. Maybe one day soon Margaret will return to England.'

‘Is Molly still asking you for money?'

‘Well, yes – and I feel I have to pay it. Anything to get Margaret well again.'

Anne was only the person in the circus, other than Molly, to know about Clicker's past. When he was a young man he'd had a romance with Margaret Field. Billed as the most daring high wire act in the world, she and Clicker had spent almost a year together. They had made plans to give up this life for something a little more conventional but then Margaret, discovering she was expecting Clicker's child, disappeared. He had received one letter from her the following year telling him of their daughter, Molly. He had kept the letter all those years, heartbroken that he would never again see the love of his life or his daughter.

His world was turned upside down again when, seven years ago, Molly arrived looking for her father. When she found him she seemed to be happy and, with her husband, joined the same circus as trick horse riders. Clicker felt he had at least found some happiness with his daughter close by – and she looked so much like her mother.

Things went well for a few months, then the demands for money started. Molly had told Clicker that her mother was very ill in Switzerland and that she could no longer keep up the payments for her mother's care. Clicker hadn't hesitated; this was the least he could do for Margaret. And so, most of his money earnings went to Switzerland while the old man lived a frugal existence, pretending to be happy and funny just to earn enough to pay the bills.

Anne looked at her watch.

‘Oh my – I didn't realise how late it's getting. Time just flies by with you, Clicker. You always make me feel better. I must go and get ready. Thank you for the tea – and good luck for tonight.'

Clicker grabbed Anne's arm.

‘Anne, don't stay here if it's making you unhappy. I'm so sorry I can't help you with money at the moment. If I could do it, I would, but I'm sure something will turn up for you soon.'

‘I know you want to help but please don't worry. I'm sure you're right. I've already got almost ten pounds saved up – that's a start isn't it?'

‘Yes, of course it is. Mind you keep it safe too.'

‘'Bye, Clicker.'

The old man closed the caravan door and drew the curtains across the tiny windows. It was time to get ready.

Peter Trevarthen held his mother's hand as they walked from their house on Greenbank and made their way to the recreation ground and to the circus. As May walked with her father, she looked up at him.

‘Daddy, are lions dangerous?'

‘Well, yes, I suppose they are – if they escape.'

‘Peter says lions can eat you.'

‘Well, May dear, these lions will all be in the circus ring and nowhere near us – so you don't need to worry. What are you most looking forward to, Peter?'

‘I think I shall like the clown best. I've got a book all about clowns. Do you remember, Daddy – Auntie Jane gave it to me when I was five, for my birthday?'

‘Yes, as a matter of fact, I do remember.'

The family reached the entrance to the circus. Violet Trevarthen put her hands to her ears.

‘It's very noisy, Charles.'

‘Oh, no it's not, dear. Come on, you'll enjoy it when it starts.'

Chapter Two

The Big Top fell silent. The lights were dimmed. Nothing was happening. Everyone waited.

‘CLICK. CLICK'.

A beam of light pooled in the centre of the circus ring and there stood a solitary clown. As he walked to the edge of the ring, his shoes could clearly be heard. ‘CLICK. CLICK.'

Peter laughed loudly.

‘Oh, Daddy – it's Clicker … the clown on the poster. He's
so
funny.'

The boy's father smiled and looked at Violet. He winked, pleased that Peter was happy – at least for now.

Two more clowns joined Clicker, one of them driving a small car which promptly ran the other two over. Now even May was laughing – May who had said clowns were “childish and not in the least bit funny”. As the evening wore on, more and more acts came out to entertain including the juggling sisters, the trick ponies, dogs, lions, elephants. By the end of the show, most children there were exhausted.

‘Come along, you two – it's very late.'

Violet Trevarthen gathered up the children's coats and the family made for the exit. Peter ran on ahead, taming lions with a stick he had pulled from a hedge.

‘May, I'm going to be a lion tamer when I grow up.'

‘No you're not – that would be stupid.'

‘Why?'

‘Because it would.'

‘Why?'

‘Mummy, tell Peter to stop saying “why”.'

‘I think you're both very tired – you're usually in bed by now. Did you enjoy yourselves, dears?'

Both children expressed their delight at having spent the evening at the circus and both begged to go again next time. By the time they reached the house, Peter was asleep in his father's arms.

George Bartlett poured himself a cup of tea and lit his pipe.

‘Cuppa, Boase?'

‘Just had one, sir, thanks.'

Archibald Boase sat behind his desk and drew out a paper bag from his desk drawer. He carefully unwrapped it to reveal the contents, a large saffron bun.

‘Want a piece of bun with that, sir?'

Bartlett looked over the top of his glasses at the younger man.

‘No thanks, Boase – wouldn't want to take food from a starving man. My word, no – you might waste away to nothing!'

‘All right, sir, no need to be sarcastic – I didn't have much breakfast this morning … and I only had time for one cup of tea before I left.'

‘Well, I just offered you another. Here you are, pass your cup.'

Bartlett walked over to Boase's desk with the teapot and filled the cup.

‘I think we'll ask Penhaligon for some more, I'm rather thirsty myself this morning. Now, talk to me about the theft at the church.'

Boase took a small notebook from his pocket.

‘Well, sir, I was thinking about this Mr McCarthy – you know, the organist.'

‘Go on.'

‘What he said about the circus … do you think there's anything in that?'

‘I don't know, but I suppose we shouldn't overlook it. When I was growing up in London we often had the circus coming to town – no one trusted them. I always thought they were a nice bunch of people on the whole, didn't seem to cause much trouble, although …'

‘Although what, sir?'

‘Well. People did say the crime rate went up when they were in town – just petty thievery really, nothing, what you might call dangerous.'

‘Well, thievery is what we're looking at here, sir, and in the absence of anything else, I think the circus might be a good place to start our enquiries. After all, they'll be gone again soon and then it'll be too late. I thought I'd take a couple of men up there this morning – see if we can find out anything.'

‘Right you are – I think I'll come with you.'

Within the hour, Bartlett and Boase were at the recreation ground and, together with Constables Coad and Eddy, were talking to some of the circus troupe. Boase went inside the Big Top where the trapeze artists were practising. He watched in amazement, almost afraid to look up at their antics on the high wire. He walked over to the group and spoke to a young woman.

‘Excuse me, miss. My name is Constable Boase, from the police station. I was wondering if you could help me, please?'

The girl called out to the other members of the group who stopped what they were doing and came over. The girl, speaking in Italian, introduced Boase.

‘My name is Allegra. This is my sister, Rosa, my brother, Angelo, and my father, Giovanni Marziani. If you want to speak to my father, I'm afraid I will have to interpret – he doesn't speak any English … well, only a very little.'

Giovanni shook Boase's hand and said, ‘Very little, very little.'

Boase told the family his business and about the break-in at the church. When Allegra explained to the father, he made the sign of the cross across his chest and spoke hurriedly.

‘My father says he is shocked that someone could do this. We attend church as often as we can if we are not working. This is a terrible crime, constable.'

‘Yes, it is, miss. And none of you can offer any help? You haven't heard anyone around the circus talking about it?'

‘No, I'm so sorry – nothing.'

‘I'm sorry to have troubled you all – thank you for your help.'

Boase walked towards the entrance to the tent and turned for one more look as the trapeze artists carried on rehearsing. As he left the tent, he saw Bartlett walking in his direction.

‘Any luck, Boase?'

‘No, sir, afraid not.'

‘Have you made an account of who's here?'

‘Yes, I spoke to the ringmaster, Chester Martin – he seems to be in overall charge. He says everyone here is well-behaved, never seem to cause any trouble – well, not
outside
the circus.'

‘What does that mean?'

‘He said that there are often altercations amongst the people who work here – you know the sort of thing, squabbles about the acts or money, but these things are always resolved.'

‘So, who's here? I've just been speaking to the lion tamers – Pearl and Arthur Wayland. They're a strange pair … they were actually talking to me with three enormous lions roaring right next to me. I could barely hear a word.'