Circus of the Unseen Read Free

Except things aren’t entirely in order. I’ve lost a necklace. A silver necklace with a charm. Give me a hand going through these drawers, won’t you? I really must find it, Rosie.’
    We went through every drawer in the desk, every compartment of her sewing box, every pot and vase, but we didn’t find it. Granny got down on her hands and knees and started feeling under the furniture. ‘I have to find it, Rosie. I really do.’
    â€˜I’ll do that,’ I said, and I knelt beside her. I couldn’t bear seeing her scrabbling about on the floor like that. She was frantic. ‘It has to be somewhere. Why don’t you make some tea and I’ll look for it?’
    â€˜Make some tea? Make some tea?’ she snapped. I felt crushed. Granny was never short-tempered. She was never nasty, so I guess that just showed how much she wanted to find this necklace. But she did get up and she did go to make tea and I carried on searching the room. I went through the same drawers again and again. I picked through every box of cotton reels and needles, checked on every shelf and bookcase, but still nothing, so I joined her in the kitchen. She was reading something on a piece of paper at the table. Her hands were trembling as her lips mouthed the words. When she noticed me there, she wiped her cheeks dry.
    â€˜Did you find it?’
    I shook my head, silently begging her not to snap at me again. ‘Not yet. Sorry. We can check the other rooms. What’s wrong? Why is it so important?’
    She cupped her face in her hands, and I didn’t know what to do or say. I swallowed hard and asked if she needed anything. My voice came out as a whisper. I wasn’t used to things being this way round. I mean, she always made
me
feel better.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Rosie. I just can’t remember where I put it. It was a gift from my old friend, you see. From my Bear and the girls.’ She shook her head. ‘It’s my own fault. I should have taken better care of it. It’s frustrating. Maddening. Not knowing where things are.’ She folded the paper and put it in a cake tin. ‘Why don’t you go and collect some eggs for us to paint? I promised Josephine we’d bring her some. I’ll be all right. I’ll join you in a bit. I’ll just check the drawers again.’
    It seemed like it might be a good idea to give her some space so I took a torch and went outside to the chicken pen, hoping she
would
be all right. I didn’t want to see her cry again. The pen was at the side of the house, next to the cabin. Mum hated the chickens. She said Granny had decided to get them around the same time she started to forget things, but it seemed to me that they were good for her. They meant she wasn’t on her own so much. I mean, I know they’re only chickens, but they gave her something to look after. Granny once told me she kept them near her cabin in case she needed to borrow their legs and run away, because you never knew when you might need to make a quick escape. This had made me giggle, but now all I could think about was the people she’d left behind in Poland. What if some of her friends
had
survived? There had to be a way to find out, to know for sure.
    I’d collected about a half a dozen eggs when Granny came out, holding the cake tin.
    â€˜That’s plenty. Let’s go to the cabin. The paints are in there somewhere, and we can make all the mess we want, and then hunt for the eggs, like when you were little.’
    The cabin was another thing I loved about coming here. I guess it had started out as a shed but had been transformed into what I imagined a cosy Alpine chalet was like. The windows had specially made shutters painted forest-green and mustardy yellow, and the inside walls were covered in tapestries of woods and animals. There was no electricity, but it had a real fireplace.
    I found the paint and we decorated the eggs with bright swirls