Sapphire Battersea (35 page)

I stitched and stitched until my hands were sore and pricked, but slowly, slowly, the mermaid’s tail grew. When the basic shape was stitched together at last, I stuck my legs cautiously into it. Thank goodness it fitted as snugly and smoothly as a glove. I sewed green brocade in stiffened strips to the fork at the end of the tail, and then started the tedious chore of stitching handfuls of little pearls and sequins into place to give the tail the shimmering effect of scales.

My eyes were twitching now and my hands
cramped
, but I still had to make my top. The mermaids I had seen in picture books were naked, though their long hair more or less preserved their decency. I wasn’t sure my hair was quite long and thick enough, and I wanted to make
certain
I preserved my decency, so I sewed myself a pink gauze bodice and carefully stuck a scallop shell at either side to cover my chest (not that I yet had anything much to cover!). I sewed more pearls around the edges, and then assembled the entire costume, brushed out my hair, and peered at myself in the spotted mirror on the wall. I wasn’t sure I looked
utterly
convincing, but then again, neither had Harold the Two-Headed Marvel. I looked decorative – and I guessed that might be Mr Clarendon’s primary requirement.

I packed my costume very carefully into Sarah’s mother’s invaluable suitcase, and set off. I walked over to the infirmary first, and peered through the window. Mama was lying back on her pillows, coughing and coughing. My heart turned over at the sight of her. She saw me and tried to get up, but I shook my head fiercely, gesturing to her to stay in bed. I mouthed
I love you
over and over again, and blew her kisses. Mama managed to stop coughing long enough to smile valiantly and blow kisses back.

I set off for Mr Clarendon’s Seaside Curiosities
with
renewed determination. Every step I took I whispered,
I love you, Mama, I love you, Mama, I love you, Mama
, trying to give myself courage. I still felt shy and frightened when I approached the red-and-white pavilion. Mr Clarendon was outside in his ridiculous red suit, inviting all the passersby to roll up.

I stood beside him, waiting for him to reach the end of his spiel. He eyed me up and down again.

‘You still don’t look like a mermaid to me,’ he said, waggling his eyebrows in a way that was meant to be amusing.

‘I need to change into my costume, Mr Clarendon,’ I said. ‘You can’t expect a mermaid with a tail to walk down the street.’

‘Ooh, hoity-toity!’ he said, chuckling. ‘Well, come this way, missy. I’ll escort you to your dressing room.’

I followed him through the tent, past the fish and seagulls and sad seal, past the tattoed man, Pirate Pete and his parrot, Freda the Female Giant and Harold the Two-Headed Marvel. They did not have much of an audience as yet and were lounging around, scratching and yawning. Freda saw me and nodded down at me in a friendly fashion, waving her great hand. I waved mine back, trying hard to stay composed.

The ‘dressing room’ was a curtained-off cramped corner at the back of the tent.

‘Come on, then, little mermaid, give us a swish of your tail,’ said Mr Clarendon. He stood there rubbing his hands together.

‘I cannot change in front of you, sir,’ I said. ‘Surely you realize it wouldn’t be decent. Please go away and return in five minutes.’

‘You’re a fiery little snippet!’ he said. ‘You don’t order me around. I’m the one who gives the orders. I’m the boss of this establishment.’

‘Yes, sir, and I very much hope you will be
my
boss – but I would still appreciate a little privacy.’

I stood firm, and he shrugged his shoulders, sighed, and walked off, though I sensed he had not gone very far away. I hoped he wasn’t peeping.

I unsnapped the suitcase, pulled off my dress, and inserted myself into the elaborate tail and pink bodice. I could not walk in my costume. I could not even stand. I lay down gingerly on the dirty tarpaulin. I let my hair down and combed it vigorously, trying to look as fetching as possible.

Then I called out: ‘Roll up, roll up, come and see the new attraction at Mr Clarendon’s Seaside Curiosities! Marvel at Emerald, the Amazing Pocket-Sized Mermaid.’

Mr Clarendon came bustling in, laughing – and then stopped short when he saw me. My heart started beating fast but I forced myself to lie still, lounging on the squalid flooring as if it were the
sandy
shore. I combed my hair, arching my back, and moved my legs so that my tail twitched.

‘You little beauty!’ he said, walking around me, peering at me from every angle. ‘Where did you get your costume from, tiddler? Are you on the stage?’

I took this as an immense compliment, and murmured something ambiguous. If he thought I was professional, maybe he’d pay me more.

‘So you’ll exhibit me, then, Mr Clarendon?’

‘I’ll say! I think we can build you up into quite a little novelty. We can make you a suitable setting – have you lying on a pile of sand, spread a bit of seaweed around, a few shells, to get the right atmosphere. I think you’ll pull the lads in even more than Freda.’

‘So how much will you pay me?’

‘Half a crown a week – if the takings are good. A florin if they’re not.’

‘What? I could get more than that as a maid!’

‘Well, go and get it then, little girlie.’

‘But – but I’m not sure I can live on that.’

‘You’ll get tips. Wink at the fellows and they’ll start raining coins, you’ll see. And you can have free lodging with the rest of us. You can share with Freda.’

I did not like the idea of winking at the fellows. I did not see that there would be much room for me in lodgings if I had to share with a giant. Even so,
joining
this strange group of sad souls seemed my only viable option now.

‘I’ll join your troupe, then,’ I said.

‘That’s the ticket! You’ll have every morning off. Folk don’t seem to have the stomach for freaks straight after breakfast. We open at two, but you’ll be here at one forty-five to change into your costume. Then we go straight through till midnight.’

‘Ten hours!’

‘You’ll have five-minute breaks at four and nine, and a half-hour for supper at six thirty.’

‘Can I go out during my supper break?’

‘Well, you’re not going to get far in that costume, are you?’ he said, ‘No, you’ll take your supper here, like all the others.’

I sat up straight. ‘I’m not like all the others. I’ll go without supper if necessary – but I must go and see someone at that time every day. I’ll make sure I’m back at seven sharp, in costume. Is that a deal, Mr Clarendon?’

‘I told you, I’m the one who makes the deals, not you,’ he said, but he held out his hand and we shook on it.

SO I STARTED
my bizarre new career as Emerald, the Amazing Pocket-Sized Mermaid. I moved into the lodging house with Mr Clarendon and the rest of his Curiosities. Mr Clarendon had an entire suite of rooms all to himself on the first floor. The rest of us had to make do in small cramped bedrooms – but at least they were clean, with washed linen.

I barely said a word to the tattoed man or the pirate or two-headed Harold. They would drink together late into the night and only surface at noon, shuffling up and down the stairs in undervests and trousers, bleary-eyed and smelling of stale beer. The tattoed man and the pirate seemed more interested in each other, but Harold leered at me with his real head, and I learned to whisk myself away from him quickly to avoid his pats and pinches.

I hated him, and disliked the other men, including Mr Clarendon – but I grew to love Freda! I had been a little frightened of her at first, because she
was
so very large, even when not standing on a bucket. She had been given a double bed to accommodate her vast size. I was told I had to share it with her. I was very anxious about this, scared that she might suddenly turn in the bed and squash me flat. I resolved to sleep on the floor with a blanket.

When we went upstairs together after my first very long and gruelling afternoon and evening as Emerald, Freda was kindness itself.

‘You poor little baby, you must be exhausted,’ she said. ‘But what a little star you are! All the boys were beside themselves!’

‘They crowded round you too,’ I said.

‘Ah, but they only want to mock me,’ said Freda sadly.

‘No, I heard someone say that you’re a fine figure of a woman,’ I said.

‘Fine figure of a freak, more like,’ said Freda. ‘But you’re a real little beauty, Emerald.’

I did not tell her my real name. I did not want anyone ever knowing that Hetty Feather – or Sapphire Battersea, indeed – was now a performing curiosity in a freak show. I pretended to Mama that I had found a respectable position as a nursery-maid. I did not write to Bertie or Jem any more. I knew what they would think of me, though I was not doing anything so very wrong, and my costume was perfectly respectable, if exotic.

‘I am not the slightest bit beautiful, Freda,’ I said ‘I have red hair, and I am much too little and scrawny.’

‘I am so tall and stout no one even notices my hair,’ said Freda. She took off her flounced bathing hat and let her hair down. It was fine fair hair, but a little sparse – it barely covered her huge shoulders. She crouched down to try and look in the mirror to brush it. She knelt instead of sitting on the chair – she was probably fearful of breaking it. She was scarcely able to move, trapped in this tiny room, and I felt so sorry for her.

‘Here, may I brush you hair for you?’ I offered timidly. ‘It is such a fine shade of yellow. It’s very becoming, Freda.’

Her hairbrush was the smallest size. All her possessions were tiny and dainty: her little pot of rose face cream, her papier-mâché trinket box, her cherub candlestick. I realized that vast Freda had a tiny feminine creature imprisoned inside her. I turned round so that she could undress modestly, though I have to confess I took a tiny peek. Her body was even more extraordinary when liberated from her bathing costume. She quickly hid her huge pink bulk with her nightgown. It barely reached her knees, though it would have trailed on the ground like a bride’s train on me.

I put on my own nightgown, and Freda
exclaimed
at the simple lazy daisies I had embroidered on the bodice.

‘They’re so pretty, Emerald!’

‘I will embroider some on your nightgown, Freda,’ I offered.

She got into bed, trying very hard to keep to her side, but she couldn’t help spreading over the mattress, taking up nearly all the room. Her poor huge feet stuck out at the end. They were sadly callused because she was forced to walk barefoot: no shoes were big enough for her.

It now seemed like an insult to lie on the floor with a blanket, so I crept into bed beside her. She was holding herself rigid, scarcely drawing breath.

‘I fear you have nowhere near enough room, Emerald,’ she said sadly.

‘No, no, I am perfectly fine, Freda,’ I said, though I was clinging to the edge.

She blew out her candle – and in the darkness we became two ordinary girls. Freda asked me what had brought me to Bignor, and I told her about Mama. I cried a little, and Freda cautiously patted my shoulder with a huge hand.

I asked Freda if she had a mama, privately wondering if she might be even more enormous than her daughter.

‘I lost my dear mama when I was ten, and already a foot taller than her,’ she said. ‘None of my
family
are similarly afflicted. My father and brothers are normal height and my mother was tiny like you – but she loved me dearly and never reproached me for growing to such a size.’