Precious Things (12 page)

We're opposites in every way
, Lexi thought, looking at their reflection in the mirror, loving him. The strongman, so soft and malleable. And little Lexi, the flying angel, a force to be reckoned with. So strange.

Dariusz's wide, almost feline jaw rippled, and his dark gaze focused upon her. Even in his fifties, he was a beast of a man, with legs like the trunk of a tree. So proud and upright, despite all the weight
he'd lifted in his years. Sometimes Lexi was amazed it hadn't ground him into the earth. She half-expected Dariusz to grow roots, he was that solid. Indeed, his hands were going that way already – stiffening into hardened fists, so that some days he couldn't even open them to hold the heavy dumbbells. The logs were easier on his hands, but she worried about his back.

Please God, don't let anything happen to him
, she thought, her heart beating faster as she turned to bury her face in his chest, breathing in his scent.

Wherever he stopped, she would perch in his branches, like a dove. And they would be happy, Lexi thought. No matter what.

The Shanghai night air was cool, so Lexi pulled on a tasselled silk shawl and looped her arm inside her husband's. They strolled towards the Huangpu River, Lexi taking two steps to every one of Dariusz's.

‘How long has it been since we did this?' he asked, leaning into her.

‘What?' Lexi asked.

‘Took a stroll,' he said. ‘Taken time . . . How are you feeling?'

‘Good,' she replied with a tight smile, giving the top of his hand a kiss.

It was not easy, but she was making an effort to enjoy herself on their way to the reception. The worries still pressed in on her. When Suki had vanished sometime after the troupe disbanded for the winter, and had not reappeared in Shanghai as arranged, Lexi had known it wasn't a good sign. No one seemed to know what had happened to her, but Lexi had her suspicions. She was sure it wasn't a coincidence that the Benikoffs' boss, Carl Zastro, of the Zastro Brothers Circus, had made contact with her in Prague – offering her a star slot on his bill. No doubt her old friend (and now nemesis, she supposed) had jumped at the opportunity instead.

Can you take Dariusz as well?
She had written back to Zastro, waiting a few days for his telegrammed response.

When his reply came –
Negative, there is only space for you
– Lexi tore up the note into a hundred tiny pieces and set light to them. It felt like an exorcism of sorts, warding off the ominous spirits that seemed to have settled over her lately.

Strange caterwauling music drifted out from an open window as they walked, and Lexi looked up at Dariusz. He smiled down, doing a little jig to the music to amuse her. She laughed, but the tension in her stomach was making her whole body rigid. She was always so full of nervous energy before a show.

Street vendors lined the narrow lanes, tossing vegetables and strips of meat in woks over portable stoves. Paraffin lamps cast shallow pools of light, and rice simmered in pots, releasing fragrant, jasmine-scented steam. Lexi breathed in the frying spices and felt the heat rising from the two-wheeled carts. The humidity clung to her skin. Groups of old men sat at folding card tables playing mahjong, the click of bleached bone tablets like the chatter of teeth in the encroaching night.

There was something charged about this evening, Lexi felt. A strange electricity. She recalled the last time she'd felt this way. Possibly that time, years ago, when she'd been just a young girl, and a circus parade had passed through town. But this time, today, she'd been part of its wondrous procession. Twenty years ago, almost to the day, she'd first seen Dariusz and her fate had been sealed. Lexi touched her head lightly, just to check that the coronet was still in place. Yes, it was still there, sparkling against the silver grosgrain. She liked the way it made her feel taller, regal, able to reach for the stars. It was her good-luck charm, stilling her frayed thoughts.

When they arrived at the Bund, Lexi could see the grand hotel's foyer was mostly empty. No one had arrived yet. Only circus people and hotel staff. Lexi waited while Dariusz finalised all the details and checked in with the stagehands. They spoke in quiet whispers. The tension in the air was palpable – they were all feeling it. Minutes inched past slowly, agonisingly, until it was finally time to grace the red carpet.

Motorcars rolled up to the Peace Hotel, disgorging their wealthy passengers one by one. Dressed in their richest clothing and jewels, Shanghai's glitterati were ready to drink, dance and be entertained. The night had officially begun.

Lexi tightened her grip, nails digging deeply into Dariusz's arm. ‘Stay by my side – please?' she asked in a low, urgent voice. Dariusz kept his arm around her narrow shoulders. ‘Of course,' he said. ‘But it will be all right – it always is. Don't fret,' he smiled reassuringly.

Taking a deep breath, Lexi threw back her shoulders and smiled as widely as she possibly could. They walked into the gilded lobby.

‘Ah, there you are,' cried Rutherford. Lexi could just hear him above the string quartet, which was playing to an oblivious audience from the corner of the room.

Rutherford looked as grand as possible for a man of such small proportions. He was bedecked in his ringmaster's attire – a red woollen jacket with shining brass buttons and tails, black, satin-edged trousers, starched white shirt and beautiful gold braiding. It was his best suit. Wearing a bow tie at his neck with the wing-tipped collar folded over.
You can hardly see the repairs
, Lexi thought, glancing down at the handkerchief covering the several darned holes at his chest. Her temporary fix had worked well, as she'd known it would. But he'd have to replace it before long. Weren't they all just keeping things together with spit polish and thread these days?

Sidling up beside Rutherford to proffer her cheek, Lexi looked down upon his head and noticed the white hairs plastered over his shining pate. She wished he'd put his hat back on so no one else could see.

Leading her into the crowd, Rutherford introduced her to the most important people among their guests this evening. Diplomats and their bored, cultured wives dripping in vastly expensive jewels; as well as the starlets, silent film stars and artistes, writers and chancers, all here to see the Great Renzini Circus and its secret new act.

‘You have quite a show for us tonight, I hear.' The buttons on the man's black tuxedo strained to contain his wide stomach as much as the silky salmon frock failed to hang on his wife's slight frame as
anything more than a sack. Lexi recognised the man, a banker, as one of the important financial backers Rutherford was hoping to woo tonight, in order to take them on to the Middle East. ‘We are all agog to see it.'

He was standing a fraction too close, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. Lexi took a small step backwards. ‘I certainly hope so,' she replied, smiling broadly. ‘My husband has a new performance, too.' Lexi pulled Dariusz into the circle with them. ‘Mind you watch his act closely – I assure you you've never seen anything like it in all of Asia.' She sounded like Rutherford, Lexi thought, selling his wares.

Dariusz squinted across the room and took a polite sip from his drink. She felt, quite suddenly, embarrassed for him.
He doesn't need me to sell his show
, she thought.
What am I doing?

‘Well, I look forward to both of your acts,' coughed the red-faced banker. ‘Thank you for the tip.'

Turning to another man who'd just joined them, Lexi pretended not to notice the stiff prosthetic arm hanging uselessly by his side, or the patch covering his right eye. Blackened bullet fragments worked their way towards the surface of the skin on his cheeks, and his chest was decorated with a panel of shining medals. But there wasn't anything proud about the way he looked at her. His one remaining eye fixed on Lexi, offering the merest twitch of the lips to indicate a smile. She thought about the war – all the havoc it had wreaked – and her heart went out to him.

‘I say, have you heard about Davidson's investments in Malaya?' the rich banker said to no one in particular. ‘Jolly smart, given all this trouble with the Kuomintang. Rubber plantations . . . They're the new goldmines, apparently.'

Lexi heard the snatch of business conversation, and saw Dariusz tune out immediately, eyes glazing over as he surveyed the room, standing taller than any of them. She made an effort to listen – why did their financial affairs always fall to her? She felt a spark of irritation that she was the only one in this relationship who seemed to care about how they would manage in their old age.

A woman wearing several long strings of pearls and a cloche hat also seemed to be eavesdropping on their exchange. She beckoned Lexi over, the dark blue shadow painted upon her eyelids matching the dark circles ringing her drooping eyes. She took in Lexi's outfit, lingering on the coronet crowning her head. ‘But aren't you afraid, my dear?' the woman asked, long nails biting into Lexi's hand as she introduced herself. Taking a drag on the cigarette in its ebony holder, the woman sized her up, seemingly mesmerised by the coronet. She reminded Lexi of Rosa, the old gypsy woman who used to read tarot cards and a crystal ball, with her amazing aptitude for impressions of the dead.

‘I heard you've developed quite an act,' the woman said, flashing Lexi a brittle grin. She took a deep drag on her cigarette and then released a cloud of blue-grey smoke into Lexi's face. The cloud matched the curls peeking out from beneath her embroidered cloche. ‘Full of danger and death-defying feats,' she said, pronouncing the words slowly so that Lexi understood the woman was already drunk.

Lexi coughed a little, then waved away the smoke. ‘Not at all, madame. With the right training, you could do them yourself, I'm sure. It's simply repetition . . . and many months of hard work.'

‘But I thought there was more mystery to it than that,' the woman said, eyeing her closely, looking above her hairline to the coronet again. ‘Isn't that what we're meant to believe? Aren't you simply jumping with nerves? I hear it's the first time you've performed this particular routine.'

‘In the ring, yes, and to an audience. But not for the first time, I assure you,' she said, adjusting the coronet and wondering what the woman was so fascinated by.

Lexi thought back to the set-up on the lot, and the creak of the trapeze equipment as she flung herself further up through the air on the swinging ropes. The violent wobbling as she struggled to regain purchase . . . Rutherford was waiting to see how well tonight went before promising anything, but all his cost-cutting had had an impact. Lexi saw none of the familiar faces working the stage, and wondered who this new crew were. She hoped Dariusz had thoroughly checked the equipment.

‘At least,' Lexi corrected herself to the woman, ‘not for an audience of people as fine as these distinguished guests.'

The woman let out a squawk of amusement, studying Lexi with a sharp look.

‘I suppose we are rather lucky this evening,' she said, flashing one last look to her head. ‘Did you hear? The new Shah of Iran is joining us. I believe he's meeting with government officials.'

Lexi did know. It was part of the reason they hadn't been able to gain access for their usual rehearsal this afternoon. The ballroom space was untested – a situation that did nothing to ease the queasy nerves in the pit of her stomach. She nodded, wondering how the strange woman had managed to acquire an invitation – this evening was meant to be something of an exclusive, and the woman's voice told her she wasn't as distinguished as Lexi had first thought.

A single clear note rang out suddenly. The cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses died down. Lexi took it as her cue and prepared to slip away, but she couldn't help turning around to watch as Rutherford mounted the marble steps of the hotel's lobby and stopped halfway up the grand staircase. He faced the room, waiting until every last person grew silent before he began.

‘Welcome to our great unveiling, and thank you for coming. We have an amazing preview for you this evening – a glimpse of some of our best performers and curiosities. Partial acts, strange people from foreign lands never glimpsed by civilised society before. And, best of all, a sneak peek at Lexi Dömötör's new routine. Our Soaring Angel has a new incarnation for you this evening, for tonight she has fallen! You will see for yourself the boldness and daring of her spectacular new routine. Just remember to
breathe
!' he proclaimed, and a murmur of excitement ran through the crowd.

All eyes trained upon her. Lexi dipped her head, smiling graciously, and caught sight of Dariusz's face in the crowd.

‘Now, if you proceed to take your places in the ballroom, ladies and gentlemen, I assure you that you will be talking about this for years to come.' The excited murmuring grew in volume, as people
made their way into the dazzling room, lit up with the brightness of twenty sparkling crystal chandeliers.