then opened her mouth to scream.
A small hand pressed against her lips.
‘Shh.’ Someone looked down at her. It was the dwarf from the circus, except there was no hunched back. It was Tiny Titania, but without her wings and blonde hair.
The dwarf and Titania turned into a nine-year-old boy with cropped hair. He gave her a crooked grin. ‘If I take my hand away, will you promise not to make a noise?’
Blue nodded. The boy stepped back.
‘What are you doing?’ whispered Blue. He was obviously not doing what a grown man might be doing, up in a girl’s bedroom. Neither was he trying to steal Aunt Lilac’s silver tea service, not if he’d taken the trouble to wake her up.
The grin grew wider in the moonlight. The curtains had been opened and the window too. ‘I’m kidnapping you. That all right with you?’
‘What! Why?’ She’d read about kidnapping in The Girl’s Own Annual . ‘No one is going to pay a ransom for me,’ she added, though she supposed that the aunts or Uncle Herbert might.
‘Not for ransom,’ said the boy scornfully.
‘Then why?’
‘Because Madame told me to.’
‘Madame from the circus?’
He nodded. ‘And me mum says we have to do what Madame says.’
This was unanswerable. Blue evaluated her rescuer. He was small and she was tall. He was strong for his age and she was an invalid, but she still didn’t see how a little boy could carry her off unwillingly. Or even willingly. ‘You couldn’t even carry me down the stairs.’
The grin reappeared. ‘Can’t get to the stairs anyway. The old cows have locked the front door. And your bedroom door.’
‘How did you get in then?’
He gestured at the window. ‘You got to go out that way too.’
She almost laughed. It was a dream. But dreams didn’t smell faintly of face powder and elephant. ‘I can hardly walk. I can’t climb out of a second-storey window.’
‘Don’t have to. I’ll lower you down. Got the pulley set up and everything.’ The boy nodded through the dimness of the room at a contraption of ropes and wheels already tied around the solid bureau.
‘You’re joking.’
‘Nope.’ He looked at her, suddenly solemn. ‘Are you gunna come, or what? ’Cause if you ain’t, someone might catch me here and say I’m a burglar.’ He pronounced it ‘burg-you-lah’.
It was impossible. Not even worth considering. And yet … ‘What happens when you get me down on the ground?’
He shrugged. ‘Have to ask Madame.’
What have I got to lose? she thought. Except my life, my life, my life …
If Uncle Herbert was right, then she didn’t have much of that to lose. If a small boy could dive from the roof of the Big Top, she thought, she could survive being lowered from a second-storey window. Suddenly even that seemed better than being trapped in this hot little room.
‘Let’s get one thing straight. It’s not a kidnap. If I come with you, it’s because I want to.’ For some reason that seemed important.
The boy glanced at the window impatiently, his eyes bright in the moonlight. ‘Well, do you want to come then?’
‘All right,’ said Blue.
Chapter 6
Dangling, wrapped up like a bundle of lamb chops, halfway down the side of a peeling country house wasn’t the best place to have second thoughts. The dangling itself was strangely reassuring, cocooned as she was in a canvas sling, with two ropes securing her at either end. The descent was slow, even, not the sudden plunge and jerks she’d expected.
But what waited for her below?
White slavers? Nice girls weren’t supposed to know about white slavers, men who kidnapped girls to be sold to brothels or sultans’ harems overseas — real harems, not the golden dancers from the circus. But no sultan would pay for a half-bald girl with scars.
Ransom? Even if Aunt Lilac could be persuaded to pay a ransom to get her back, she and Aunt Daisy were far from rich. They might rent a large house, but only because it was relatively cheap now in the
A small hand pressed against her lips.
‘Shh.’ Someone looked down at her. It was the dwarf from the circus, except there was no hunched back. It was Tiny Titania, but without her wings and blonde hair.
The dwarf and Titania turned into a nine-year-old boy with cropped hair. He gave her a crooked grin. ‘If I take my hand away, will you promise not to make a noise?’
Blue nodded. The boy stepped back.
‘What are you doing?’ whispered Blue. He was obviously not doing what a grown man might be doing, up in a girl’s bedroom. Neither was he trying to steal Aunt Lilac’s silver tea service, not if he’d taken the trouble to wake her up.
The grin grew wider in the moonlight. The curtains had been opened and the window too. ‘I’m kidnapping you. That all right with you?’
‘What! Why?’ She’d read about kidnapping in The Girl’s Own Annual . ‘No one is going to pay a ransom for me,’ she added, though she supposed that the aunts or Uncle Herbert might.
‘Not for ransom,’ said the boy scornfully.
‘Then why?’
‘Because Madame told me to.’
‘Madame from the circus?’
He nodded. ‘And me mum says we have to do what Madame says.’
This was unanswerable. Blue evaluated her rescuer. He was small and she was tall. He was strong for his age and she was an invalid, but she still didn’t see how a little boy could carry her off unwillingly. Or even willingly. ‘You couldn’t even carry me down the stairs.’
The grin reappeared. ‘Can’t get to the stairs anyway. The old cows have locked the front door. And your bedroom door.’
‘How did you get in then?’
He gestured at the window. ‘You got to go out that way too.’
She almost laughed. It was a dream. But dreams didn’t smell faintly of face powder and elephant. ‘I can hardly walk. I can’t climb out of a second-storey window.’
‘Don’t have to. I’ll lower you down. Got the pulley set up and everything.’ The boy nodded through the dimness of the room at a contraption of ropes and wheels already tied around the solid bureau.
‘You’re joking.’
‘Nope.’ He looked at her, suddenly solemn. ‘Are you gunna come, or what? ’Cause if you ain’t, someone might catch me here and say I’m a burglar.’ He pronounced it ‘burg-you-lah’.
It was impossible. Not even worth considering. And yet … ‘What happens when you get me down on the ground?’
He shrugged. ‘Have to ask Madame.’
What have I got to lose? she thought. Except my life, my life, my life …
If Uncle Herbert was right, then she didn’t have much of that to lose. If a small boy could dive from the roof of the Big Top, she thought, she could survive being lowered from a second-storey window. Suddenly even that seemed better than being trapped in this hot little room.
‘Let’s get one thing straight. It’s not a kidnap. If I come with you, it’s because I want to.’ For some reason that seemed important.
The boy glanced at the window impatiently, his eyes bright in the moonlight. ‘Well, do you want to come then?’
‘All right,’ said Blue.
Chapter 6
Dangling, wrapped up like a bundle of lamb chops, halfway down the side of a peeling country house wasn’t the best place to have second thoughts. The dangling itself was strangely reassuring, cocooned as she was in a canvas sling, with two ropes securing her at either end. The descent was slow, even, not the sudden plunge and jerks she’d expected.
But what waited for her below?
White slavers? Nice girls weren’t supposed to know about white slavers, men who kidnapped girls to be sold to brothels or sultans’ harems overseas — real harems, not the golden dancers from the circus. But no sultan would pay for a half-bald girl with scars.
Ransom? Even if Aunt Lilac could be persuaded to pay a ransom to get her back, she and Aunt Daisy were far from rich. They might rent a large house, but only because it was relatively cheap now in the
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