Frozen Billy (11 page)

Will broke off reading. In the grey dawn light, his skin was silver pale, and his eyes huge.

‘Clarrie? Is this—? Does this mean—?'

I laid a finger across my lips. ‘Sssh! Uncle Len will hear.'

‘He doesn't know?'

‘Nobody knows – except for you and me.'

‘Next Friday?' His whole face softened. His eyes filled with tears. For the first time in as long as I could remember, he looked like a child.

‘Mother's to come home! Next
Friday
.' He whispered it again. ‘Next
Friday
.' He touched my arm. ‘Why, Clarrie, if there's a boat that night, she'll be with us the next day!'

He drew his knees up under the coverlet and clasped them as tightly as if he were hugging Mother. ‘On Saturday!' he whispered. ‘Only seven days!'

I put my finger back across my lips to warn him again to keep silent. ‘No. Tonight.'

‘Tonight?' He peered at me, then turned the letter over in his hand. ‘Clarrie, how long have you had this?'

‘Seven days.'

‘Seven days! But every day without Mother has seemed like weeks. Why didn't you—?'

‘Because,' I whispered, ‘I had an idea. And what I needed was for you to be the selfsame Will you've been all these past weeks.'

He hung his head. ‘Have I been horrible? Oh, Clarrie! Yes, I have. I've been horrible, haven't I? Say it!'

‘And you're to be horrible one more day, or Uncle Len will see the difference and be on his guard, and my idea will come to nothing.'

‘But with this letter in my hand, I don't feel horrible any longer.'

‘Will,' I said sternly, ‘are you Top of the Bill at the Alhambra, or aren't you?'

‘Yes, I am.'

‘And do the crowds come every night – and pay handsomely for their seats?'

‘Yes, they do – not that we see a penny for it!'

I hid my smile. ‘Never mind that now. You are a showman, just like Uncle Len. And today, you're to give the finest show ever.'

I climbed under the coverlet beside him, to explain the plan.

The Ninth Notebook

I
'm glad Madame Terrazini was in the theatre that night to wave me her fond farewell while everyone else was clapping. She raised her hand, and shook her elegant lace handkerchief as warmly and deliberately as if she were standing on a quayside, watching me sail away.

Would she have smiled so broadly if she had seen her brand-new ‘Top of the Bill' twenty minutes before? I shivered and shook inside the side stage curtain I'd wrapped so carefully around myself. I didn't dare peek out as I heard Uncle Len come back to the carrying box he'd left ready beside where I hid. My limbs went cold with terror, and in my mind's eye I could plainly see the look on his face as he flicked up the catches and lifted the lid on Frozen Billy's side to find—

Nothing.

‘Empty?' Was he talking to Will, or to himself? ‘How can the box be empty? I put the dummy in myself, and we came straight from the house.'

I heard the cheers of the audience as the acrobats tumbled off stage, and, trusting in the confusion, parted the drapes just enough to take a quick look.

Uncle Len stood staring down at the carrying box. ‘It was as heavy as usual! It rattled just the same! Where's Frozen Billy?'

He lifted up the box and shook it. Sure enough, from inside came a rattle and a thud.

‘Of course!' Uncle Len's relief turned into irritation. ‘Is this some prank of yours, Will, to switch the dummy to the other side and give me the fright of my life?'

He flicked the catch under the label that said
STILL LUCY
, and raised the flap on that side.

There lay Still Lucy, smiling serenely up at him.

‘What the—?'

Behind him, the stage manager was coming closer. ‘Len! The audience grows restless. Get out on stage.'

‘But—'

‘Get on stage! Now!'

Snatching up the dummy, the stage manager thrust her at Uncle Len and pushed him out in front of the audience. Uncle Len held Still Lucy at arm's length and stared at her in horror.

The audience laughed.

I've always said it: Uncle Len's a showman. It took him barely a moment to gather his wits and say to the dummy, ‘Well, here's a big surprise!'

The audience laughed again.

‘A girl, indeed! That's something new. A girl!'

By now, with all eyes fixed on Uncle Len, I had dared part the fold in the curtain just enough to watch as he propped Still Lucy on a chair, then prowled around her.

‘A pretty patchwork frock! Nice smile! Enchanting hair ribbons! And such delicate red shoes!'

I knew what he was doing. He was taking the chance to walk round the new dummy and inspect her. He spotted the flap of loose material over her back quickly enough.

‘Dear, are you comfortable?'

He reached out a hand, as if to settle her better on the chair. Slipping his fingers under the loose cloth, he found the hooks and pulleys the sailors had made to match Frozen Billy's exactly, and took a chance.

‘So what's your name, dear?'

Still Lucy blinked her eyes.

‘Shy, eh?'

Still Lucy nodded.

‘Go on, dear. Be brave. Tell everyone.'

Still Lucy shook her head.

Was he unsure about the mechanism? Or was he worrying about the voice? To me in the wings, knowing how much sheer nerve Uncle Len needed (Suppose the mouth didn't open? Suppose it didn't shut?), it seemed an age of nods and winks and head-shakings before he took the chance.

‘So, Little Lady. I'll ask you one last time. What's your name?'

My heart thumped. Jamie and Bert and Luis had pored over my drawings so carefully. They'd sanded and oiled so well. They'd tested every spring and wire a score of times, and taken advice from their shipmates. Still, I had never dared hope Still Lucy's mouth would drop open and clack shut as naturally as Frozen Billy's.

And yet it did. And the voice that appeared to come out of it was sweet and shy. Uncle Len even dared give her a lisp.

‘Thtill Luthy.'

‘Thtill Luthy?' Uncle Len teased.

The audience chuckled.

‘No! Thtill Luthy!'

‘Just what I said. Thtill Luthy.'

‘No!' The mass of ribbons shimmered as Still Lucy's head shook. ‘I thaid, “Thtill Luthy!” '

As Uncle Len's confidence grew, so did the audience's amusement. They couldn't take their eyes off the new, amazing dummy – so sweet, so pretty, with her shiny black cheeks and red, red lips and perfect ivory teeth. I glanced across at Madame Terrazini. Her lips were parted in wonder. It gave me confidence. I thought, if my uncle is such a fine showman that he can make even the theatre manager stare at the stage and not at the audience, then some of his talent
must
have come down to me. I know I can do it.

And I stepped out on stage.

I walked the way I'd learned from Will, picking up my black dubbined legs as though they were on strings. I let the shoes I'd stained bright red with stolen lip paste drop with a
tap, tap, tap
on the stage boards as I came closer.

As Uncle Len heard the laugh he'd been raising turn to a sudden gasp, he twisted round to see me coming.

But clearly nothing could surprise him now.

‘Well, well,' he said. ‘Still Lucy has brought her twin sister along with her. And what's your name, dear?'

Up until then, I hadn't thought of lisping. But I suppose I am a showman, too! Because suddenly I caught sight of the dancers staring at me in great amazement from the wings, and the funniest joke in the world occurred to me.

‘My name ith Anathtathia.'

‘Anathtathia?'

And off we went again. I was so up in the air with the thrill of it, I can't remember precisely how the show went on. (Neither can Uncle Len, except for saying if I ever again bring him so close to nervous collapse, he'll have my guts for garters.) So all I can tell you is that we kept up the prattle like old hands, stumbling from one to another of the many old jokes he and Will had tried and discarded.

‘So, Anastasia, you say you and Lucy live on a beautiful coral island. Tell us about life there. Does everyone work all week?'

In my excitement, I clean forgot my lisping. ‘No, no. Since Robinson Crusoe was shipwrecked with us, all the work has been done by Friday.'

There was a moment's silence as the audience worked out the joke. Then how they roared!

‘So how do you pass the time?' asked Uncle Len. ‘Do you play cards?'

‘No,' I said sadly, shaking my head. ‘We have too many cheetahs on the island.'

More mirth. Then:

‘Do you have grand feasts?'

‘No. We have afternoon teas on the beach.'

‘Why afternoon teas? And why on the beach, dear?'

‘Because of all the sand which is there!'

There were as many groans as laughs, but Uncle Len kept on.

‘And are there quicksands too?'

‘Yes, but I won't tell you about them. It will take far too long to sink in!'

‘You catch fish, surely?'

‘Every day.'

‘So tell us, Anastasia, which is the simplest way to catch a fish?'

I paused, looked winsome, and tipped my head to one side. ‘Get someone to throw it to you!'

Uncle Len waited for the audience's laughter to quieten before bringing Still Lucy into the act again by making her ask me:

‘Anathtathia, how ith our little pet goat?'

‘Very annoying.'

‘How tho, thithter?'

‘Because it butts in such a lot!'

Again, we had to wait for the merriment to die down before we could carry on.

‘And how ith our dear little pet parrot?' Still Lucy asked me next.

I made my eyes go even rounder, and my face turn sad. ‘Alas, our parrot's very, very ill.' I made them wait before I finished up, ‘I think it must need tweetment!'

As soon as the theatre was quiet enough to allow Still Lucy to be heard again, Uncle Len made her comfort me: ‘Never mind, Anathtathia! Thoon our parrot will be well enough to fly higher than a houthe.'

‘A house?' I said, stalling as I tried to remember the end of the joke. Then mercifully it came to me. ‘That won't be hard. We've never seen a house that could fly at all!'