Meridon. Philippa Gregory

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Meridon - Philippa  Gregory


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odd,’ I agreed. ‘The room stays still all the time. You get used to the wagon rocking every time someone moves, I suppose. And the ceiling seems so high. In our old wagon, with Da and Zima, the roof was just above my head and I used to get a wet face when I turned over and brushed against it.’

      ‘What’s it like for you, Jack?’ Dandy said insinuatingly. ‘Will you miss not seeing us in our shifts in the morning? Or getting a little peep at us when we wash?’

      Jack laughed but I guessed he was blushing in the darkness.

      ‘Plenty of girls in Warminster, Dandy,’ he said. ‘Plenty of choice in this town.’

       ‘As pretty as me?’ she asked. Dandy could make her voice sound like a gilt-edged invitation to a party, if she had a mind to. I could feel Jack sweat as he walked between us.

      ‘Nay,’ he said honestly. ‘But a darned sight less troublesome.’ He turned abruptly as we walked into the stable yard. ‘I’ll say goodnight to the two of you here,’ he said, and went through the little door in the wall to the garden and the main house.

      Dandy went up the stairs before me humming, and unpinned her cap before the bit of mirror while I lit our one rush candle.

      ‘I could have him,’ she said softly. It was almost an incantation, as if she were making magic with her own lovely mirror-image. ‘I could have him, though his da has warned him against me, and though he thinks to look down on me. I could call him into my hand like a little bird with a speck of bread.’

      She untied her pinny and slid her gown up and over her head. The curves of her body showed clear as a ripple on a stream. Her breasts rounding and plump with pale unformed nipples. The dark shadow of curly hair between her legs and the smooth curve of her buttocks were like magical symbols in an old book of spells. ‘I could have him,’ she said again.

      I stripped my Sunday gown off and bundled it into the chest and leaped into my bed, covers up to my chin.

      ‘Don’t even think of it,’ I said.

      At once the desirous tranced expression left her face, and she turned to me laughing. ‘Old Mother Meridon!’ she taunted. ‘Always on the lookout for trouble. You’ve got ice between your legs, Meridon, that’s your trouble. All you ever want there is a horse.’

      ‘I know what a horse is thinking,’ I said grimly. ‘Pretty Jack could plan a murder and you’d never see it in his eyes. And Robert wants nothing but money. I’d rather have a horse any day.’

      Dandy laughed. I heard the floorboards creak as she lay down on her mattress.

      ‘I wonder what the trapeze artist will be like,’ she said sleepily. ‘I wonder how old he is, and if he’s married. He looked fine on that hand-bill, d’you remember, Merry? Half-naked he was. I wonder what he’ll be like.’

      I smiled into the darkness. I need not fear the charms of Jack Gower nor the anger of his father if the man of the trapeze act would just flirt a little with Dandy for the two months that he was with us – and then go.

      He was prompt, anyway. He walked into the yard at six o’clock on a bitterly cold November morning, a small bag in his hand. He was dressed like a working farmer, good clothes, made of good quality cloth, but plain and unfashionable. He had a greatcoat on and a plain felt hat pushed back. His impressive moustaches curled out gloriously along his cheeks and made him look braggish and good-humoured. William took one look at him and bolted into the house to tell Robert that he had arrived. Dandy and I observed him minutely from our loft window.

      Robert came out at once and shook his hand like an equal. William was told to take the little bag into the house.

      ‘He gets to sleep inside,’ Dandy whispered to me.

      ‘But where will he eat?’ I replied, guessing that it was the entry to the dining room which was the significant threshold.

      Jack came out at once and was introduced to the visitor.

      ‘My son Jack,’ Robert said. ‘Jack, this is Signor Julio.’

      ‘Foreign,’ whispered Dandy, awed.

      ‘Call me David,’ the man said with a beaming smile. ‘Signor Julio is just a working name. We thought it sounded better.’

      Robert turned so quickly that he caught sight of us as we ducked back from the window.

      ‘Come down you two,’ he called.

      We clattered down the stairs. Dandy pushed me before her. I was wearing my working breeches and a white cut-down shirt which once belonged to Jack. I flushed as I saw him look me over. But when I raised my eyes I saw that he was measuring my strength, as I would look at a new colt and wonder what it could do. He nodded at Robert as if he were pleased.

      ‘This is Meridon,’ Robert said. ‘She’s horse-mad. But if you could get her up high I’d be obliged. She’s the one who doesn’t fancy it, and I’ve given my word she won’t be forced. She’s scared of heights.’

       ‘There’s many like that,’ David said gently. ‘And sometimes they are the best in the end.’ His voice had a singing lilt I’d heard only once before, from a Welsh horse-trader who sold Da the smallest toughest pony I had ever seen.

      ‘And this is Dandy, her sister,’ Robert said.

      Dandy walked slowly forward, her eyes on David’s face, a hint of a smile around her lips as she watched him scan her from the top of her dark head to the glide of her feet.

      ‘They’ll pay just to see you,’ David said to her, very softly.

      Dandy beamed up at him.

      ‘Right,’ Robert said briskly. ‘Let’s go to the barn. My lad said he’d set the rigging as you ordered but if there’s anything amiss we can set it right at once. If it is all to your liking then the girls and Jack are ready to start the training at once.’

      David nodded and Robert led the way through the stable gate into the garden and then down to the paddock at the end of the garden. David looked around him as he followed Robert and I guessed he was thinking, as I had done, that this was a man who had come very far with very little except his own hard work and brains.

      Robert threw open the door of the barn with something of a flourish and the Welshman stepped inside and looked all around. His shoulders squared, his head came up. I watched him narrowly and saw him change from the new employee in the stable yard to a performer at home in his element.

      ‘It’s good,’ he said nodding. ‘You understood my drawings then?’

      ‘I had them followed to the letter,’ Robert said proudly. ‘But the carpenter had no idea what was wanted so part of it was done by guess.’ He took his pipe from his pocket and tamped down the tobacco.

      ‘Good guesses,’ David said. He went over to the rope-ladder and swung it gently. It quivered up its length like a snake. He cast his eye over the ring.

      ‘Good and level,’ he said approvingly.

      He went over to the practice trapeze and his walk was not like that of an ordinary man. He was muscled so hard and he walked so tight that he looked as lean and as fit as a stable cat ready to pounce. I glanced at Dandy; she met my eyes with a wink.

      David the Welshman made a little spring with his hands above his head and I saw his knuckles turn white as he gripped on the bar. For a second he hung there, motionless, and then he brought his straight legs up before him and then beat them back with a smooth fluid force which sent the swing flying forward. Three times he swung and the third time he let go and spun himself head over heels towards us, and landed smack on his feet, solid as a rock, his blue eyes gleaming, his white smile bright.

      ‘No smoking in here,’ he said pleasantly to Robert.

      Robert had just got his pipe going and took it from his mouth in surprise.

      ‘What?’ he demanded.


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