The Harriet Bean 3-Book Omnibus (3 page)

At last he came back with a scrap of paper.

“This is the only one I can find,” he said. “I don’t know what happened to the others.”

I took the piece of paper with trembling hands. The name Veronica was written at the top, and underneath there was the number of a house and a street in a town with a name I had never heard before. I fetched my diary and carefully transferred the information to a page at the back. The search had begun.

I did not write a long letter to Aunt Veronica. All I did was introduce myself and tell her that the only reason why I had not written before was that my father had never told me of her existence.

“You must have thought me very rude,” I wrote, “not even to send you a Christmas card. But it really is my father’s fault. Now I am writing to make up for it all.”

I sent the letter, dropping it into the mailbox with a silent wish that it would find its destination. Then, for the next ten days, I eagerly awaited the arrival of the mailman.

“Anything for me?” I asked as he made his way up the garden path.

The answer was always the same.

“Nothing today. Sorry.”

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. And then…

When the mailman handed me the letter, I could hardly believe that it had really come. I examined the postmark and caught my breath as I saw that it was from the very town I had written. It was a letter from Aunt Veronica—that was all it could be.

There was a single page inside. “Dear Harriet Bean,” I read. “I opened the letter that you sent to your aunt because I now live in that house and it was delivered to me. If I knew where to send it, I could have forwarded it on to her unopened. But I’m afraid that I have no idea where she is. She went away from here years ago and did not leave a new address. All I can say is that I believe that she worked in a circus. This meant that she was away from home most of the time and never had the time to make many friends. So nobody knows where she is anymore. I’m very sorry, and I do hope that you find her.”

I put the letter down and closed my eyes.
I was bitterly disappointed, but I knew that I was not going to give up. At least I now had a clue. Aunt Veronica worked in a circus. There were probably quite a number of circuses, and I might not find the right one, but I was sure to discover somebody in the circus world who had met her or who would know something about her.

I had not been told what she did in the circus, though, and that could make my search more difficult. Did she sell tickets in the box office? Did she work with horses, or even lions? Or was she one of those people who swing on the high trapeze? All of these were possible.

From then on, I studied the newspaper every day to see if there were any circuses performing nearby. There were all sorts of other events—concerts, races, motorcycle shows—but nothing about a circus. Then, at last, just when I was beginning to think that circuses had disappeared altogether, my eye fell on a small notice at the bottom of the page.

“Circus Romano,” it said simply. “A great treat for all! Don’t miss it!” This was followed by the dates and places, and one of the places was not far away.

I took the advertisement and showed it to my father.

“Please take me to the circus,” I begged. “I’ve never been to one before.”

My father looked at the notice and wrinkled up his nose.

“Nasty, noisy things,” he said. “I’m sure you wouldn’t enjoy yourself.”

“But I would,” I protested. “I really want to go.”

He could tell that I was very eager to do this, and because, in spite of all his faults (and he has a lot of them), he’s really very kind inside, he said that we could go. I was delighted. This was my first chance of finding Aunt Veronica, and I had a feeling that I was going to be lucky the first time.

The days of waiting for the Circus Romano dragged painfully. I began to have doubts about what would happen when I met Aunt Veronica. What would I say to her?

“How do you do? You’re my aunt.” That sounded rather abrupt. Perhaps I should say, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I think I’m your niece.”

And what would her reply be? Would she be pleased, or would she be annoyed? Perhaps she wouldn’t want a niece. Perhaps she’d think that I wanted something from her.

By the time we left for the circus, I felt very anxious indeed and the sight of the great
tent and its glare of lights did nothing to calm my fears. I had made no plan about what to do at the circus, although I hoped that I would have the chance to ask some of the performers after the show whether they knew anything of Aunt Veronica.

We took our seats by the ringside. My father had bought good tickets—the best available, in fact—and so we were seated right at the very edge of the ring. He was still not at all interested in the whole thing, and he looked around with disapproval.

“Look at those trapezes,” he said, pointing to the silver swings suspended from the very top of the tent. “What a ridiculous place to put them. Why don’t they put them closer to the ground so we can all see what’s happening?”

I tried to explain to him that what made trapezes so exciting was the fact that they were so high, but he seemed to take no interest. So I sat back and waited for the show to begin.

With a fanfare from the circus band the first act began. This was horses—marvelous,
jet-black animals bedecked in glittering harnesses, plumes rising proudly above their heads. As they cantered around the ring, a great cheer rose from the crowd.

The horses were followed by clowns. They fell down, squirted each other with water, and played the trombone as they tripped each other up. The audience loved them, or rather,
most
of the audience loved them. My father just sat and stared at them, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Silly people,” he muttered. “I don’t see what’s so funny about having a red nose and tripping over your feet.”

Then, when the clowns had left, a circle of stout iron bars was set up around the ring and a man in a red coat and top hat strutted proudly to the center. This was the lion tamer, and at the crack of his whip five great lions bounded in through a tunnel. Everyone gasped as the lions sprang onto stools and bared their vicious-looking teeth at the trainer. Everyone, that is, except my father. He took out a newspaper he had
tucked into his jacket pocket, unfolded it, and began to read.

My father was still reading when the lions had disappeared and their cage had been dismantled. He was still buried in his newspaper when the next act started, and so he did not see the strong woman march into the ring, nor see her flex her bulging muscles for the admiration of the crowd. I saw her, though, and knew in my heart that this was my Aunt Veronica. I had found her.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” cried the ringmaster. “This strong lady, the strongest lady in the country, will now demonstrate her mighty strength. She will begin by tearing up three telephone directories all stuck together!”

“Impossible!” called a voice from the back of the tent, but Aunt Veronica did not bat an eyelid. She took the directories from the ringmaster, held them before her, and then, with one great rip, tore them in two.

There was a burst of applause and one or
two jeers directed against the man who had shouted out that it was impossible. There was applause too, for her next feat, which was to bend a thick iron bar until its ends touched one another, and for the feat after that, in which she picked up a piece of railway line with her teeth.

“Now,” said the ringmaster, “the strong lady will take on the circus elephant in a tug-of-war!”

Laughter and clapping greeted the plodding arrival in the ring of the circus elephant. Coolly and calmly, Aunt Veronica tied one end of a thick rope to the elephant’s trunk and then braced herself against the other end. Then the two of them tugged away, but try as it might, the elephant could not move Aunt Veronica.

The applause almost brought the tent down around our ears. Aunt Veronica bowed, raised her hands in the air, and then led the elephant to the side of the ring to stand there while she performed her final and most difficult feat.

I watched in fascination as Aunt Veronica lay down on the ground. Then, on top of her stomach, three circus assistants laid heavy iron weights, each the size of a football. They were burying my aunt in iron weights! Only one of these weights would have crushed the breath out of an ordinary person, and Aunt Veronica now had at least fifteen piled on top of her.

Suddenly my father lowered his newspaper. I think it was the silence that made him wonder what was going on. He looked into the ring, opened his eyes wide with surprise at the strange sight of the weighted-down strong lady, and then gave a sudden jolt.

“Veronica!”

Aunt Veronica heard my father’s exclamation and turned to look in his direction. Their eyes met, and I think that she recognized him immediately.

My father was now on his feet.

“Veronica!” he called out again. “Surely it can’t be you?”

“Harold!” Aunt Veronica called out from under her weights. “Is it really you, Harold?”

Without further ado, my father leapt from his seat and vaulted into the ring.

“No,” shouted the ringmaster from the other side. “Keep out, sir!”

My father ignored the ringmaster’s cry and began to run across the ring to his long-lost sister. I watched, fascinated—proud to have found my aunt, but embarrassed by my father’s behavior. Why could he not have waited until the end of the act? There would have been plenty of time for reunions then.

The ringmaster called out another warning, but it was too late. The elephant had been disturbed by my father’s sudden arrival in the ring and had lumbered forward to meet him. Now, before my father could do anything about it, the elephant had grabbed him with his trunk and wound it around him.

“My father!” I cried. “He’s going to be squeezed to pieces!”

I watched in horror as my father turned a strange purple color. I was convinced that this
was the end, and I was powerless to do anything about it.

When Aunt Veronica saw what was happening, she lost no time in throwing off the iron weights. With a great shrug and
hurrumph
she pushed the weights away and staggered to her feet. Then, with one or two bounds, she dashed across to the elephant.

The elephant had now unwound part of my father and had laid him on the ground. I thought that it was going to release him, but I soon realized that it had other plans. Slowly, but very deliberately, the elephant was beginning to sit on my father!

I closed my eyes in horror. Only a miracle could save him now … or Aunt Veronica. When I opened my eyes again, she was in between my father and the elephant, pushing the elephant up and away. The elephant looked very annoyed and gave a bellow of anger. Then, realizing that it had met its match, it ambled away and looked resentfully at my aunt.

As if it were one person, the crowd rose to its feet in applause.

“Bravo!” they shouted. “Well done!”

My father, looking a bit shaken, but otherwise none the worse for his experience, was led back to his seat by Aunt Veronica.

“You must be my niece,” she said, smiling at me in a very friendly way. “Just look after your father for the rest of the show and then we’ll meet in my trailer when it’s all over.”

She smiled again and then, with applause still thundering to the very top of the tent, she bounded out of the ring and was gone.

The moment the show came to an end, I led my father out of the tent. He was eager to get out quickly, as he was well aware that everybody was looking at him.

“There’s the man who was nearly sat on by the elephant!” people said, pointing to my father.

Once outside, we went straight to the corner of the field where the trailers were parked. There were at least twenty of them—brightly colored vehicles with curtains in the windows and small chimneys poking out through the top of their roofs.

I asked a boy standing outside the door of
one of the trailers to show me which one belonged to Aunt Veronica. He pointed to a small trailer near the edge of the field.

When I knocked, Aunt Veronica opened the door immediately and stood before us, her arms wide open in a gesture of welcome. She gave my father a hug, then turned her attention to me.

“I’m so glad you’ve come,” she said enthusiastically. “I always wanted a niece, and now, presto, I find that I’ve had one all along!”

We went into the trailer and sat down at a table, which had just been laid for us. It was not a very large trailer, but it seemed very comfortable, with everything tidily stacked in its place. Aunt Veronica put a teakettle on a small gas stove in one corner and then took a large cake out of a cake tin.

Then, over a cup of steaming tea and a large slice of delicious fruitcake, we talked. My father had a lot to tell her, and she had a lot to tell him. Not all that much had happened in my life, so I just sat and listened to the two of them.

Finally, Aunt Veronica finished talking about herself and leaned back in her chair.

“What about the others?” she asked. “Have you heard from them?”

“The others?” asked my father.

“Majolica and Harmonica,” said Aunt Veronica. “And Japonica and Thessalonika.”

My father shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know where they are.” He paused. “Do you?”

Aunt Veronica sighed. “Only one of them,” she said. “Harmonica. I’m sure I know where she is.”

This was the signal for me to interrupt. “Oh, please, tell me,” I said. “I want to find them—all of them.”

Aunt Veronica looked at me thoughtfully. “Do you really want to find your aunts?” she said. “You’re not just saying that?”

“No,” I protested. “I mean, yes. I do want to find them.” I did not want to tell her about the painting, at least not yet.

She thought for a bit longer. Then,
winking at me in a way which said, “I have a good idea,” she came up with her suggestion.

“Harold,” she said, turning to my father, “I think that you should leave Harriet with me for a few days. I’d like to find these sisters of mine myself, and I could do with a bit of help. I’m due a bit of vacation from the circus and now’s as good a time to take it as any.”