The Girl Who Walked on Air Read Free

off?’
    I nodded. He bid me stand at Jasper’s shoulder. I glimpsed a twisted limb, bulging above the knee. The skin was shiny-tight. It hardly looked like a human leg at all.
    ‘Put both hands around his thigh, and grip it hard,’ said Dr Graves. ‘And when I count to three, pull backwards with all your strength.’
    There wasn’t time to be squeamish. I gripped. Dr Graves took hold of the lower leg in the same way. Jasper groaned, twisting his face into the pillow.
    Dr Graves bit his lip. Little drops of sweat had formed on his brow. ‘One . . . two . . . three . . .’
    I heaved with all my might. The doctor pulled in the opposite direction, turning the leg as he did so. Jasper screamed. There was a grinding noise. Beneath my hands I felt the bone shift. Something creaked.
    ‘Enough!’ cried Dr Graves.
    I glanced down. Jasper had passed out cold. Yet his leg was now a thing to behold, stretched out straight as a train track.
    ‘Good work,’ said the doctor, admiringly.
    My face, I supposed, looked astonished, for he then spoke sharply, ‘Quickly now, pass me those bandages.’
    I did as I was told, though I couldn’t help grinning. It was rare that I got the chance to show I might be more than a ticket-selling, costume-mending nobody.
    Once Jasper was all bandaged up and sleeping soundly, the doctor made ready to leave.
    ‘You are his daughter, I assume?’ he said.
    It wasn’t a mistake easily made, not with my red hair, though I did have Jasper’s surname of Reynolds. And if anyone asked, I’d say, ‘I’m his niece from the country,’ which was what I did now. So far it’d kept me safe from the orphanage.
    The trailer door swung open. Mr Chipchase’s great bulk filled the doorway.
    ‘You’re too late,’ said the doctor. ‘The bone has already been set.’
    ‘Managed by yourself, eh?’ said Mr Chipchase, who clearly hadn’t found anyone to help and looked relieved to be let off the hook.
    ‘I was most ably assisted by his niece here.’
    I felt pleased as punch. Or at least I did until I saw the shock on Mr Chipchase’s face.
    ‘What, Louie ?’
    I scowled at him. The doctor hadn’t thought me too young to help him . There were things I was good at, and not just mending broken legs. If only Mr Chipchase would give me the chance.
    The doctor put on his hat. ‘We managed well. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients.’
    ‘Wait!’ Mr Chipchase seized the doctor’s arm. ‘Can we move him tomorrow?’
    ‘That wouldn’t be wise. He needs complete rest.’
    ‘But we can’t stay put! We’re a travelling show!’
    It was true. We never stayed longer than two nights anywhere.
    ‘Then you’ll need to make an exception,’ said Dr Graves, removing Mr Chipchase’s hand from his arm.
    ‘And if we do stay, will he be back in the ring soon?’
    The doctor looked horrified. ‘I hardly think so!’
    ‘But Jasper’s my star performer. He has to get well. The show won’t make money without him,’ said Mr Chipchase.
    ‘That man,’ Dr Graves said, nodding at Jasper, ‘is lucky to be alive. If he walks again – and I mean if – I predict he will have a profound limp.’
    A limp wasn’t much, not really.
    Yet Mr Chipchase’s face said otherwise. This wasn’t good news, not to a circus. Jasper was our showstopper act. Mr Chipchase stroked his side whiskers: this wasn’t a good sign either.
    ‘What are you telling me, doctor?’ he said.
    The wagon seemed suddenly chill.
    ‘I’d start looking for another star performer, Mr Chipchase,’ he said. ‘Jasper Reynolds’s days as an acrobat are over.’
    *
    Once the doctor was gone, Mr Chipchase cleared his throat. He shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, making the plates rattle on the shelves.
    ‘What is it, sir?’ I said, for I reckoned this was about Jasper.
    He stroked his whiskers. ‘Louie, we took you in as a baby and now you’re a . . . well . . . quite a bit older.’
    ‘Yes,’ I said, thinking he’d not