The Girl Who Walked on Air Read Free Page B

skirts like I usually did. But then today wasn’t usual. Not by far.
    Next job was to wake up Ned. And that was never ever easy.
    He lived with his mam, Rosa, the bareback rider. The remains of last night’s cooking fire still smouldered outside their wagon. Me and Ned had our own special knock, of a kind adults seemed unable to hear. I did it now, a tap-tap-tap with just my fingernail on the side of the trailer, right near where he slept. I waited. And waited a bit more.
    ‘Come on lazy bones,’ I muttered under my breath.
    An age seemed to pass. I knocked again. Even Pip started to look bored. Finally, the door opened. Ned appeared, still wrapped in a blanket.
    ‘What’s going on?’ he said blearily. Then his face fell. ‘It ain’t Jasper is it? Nothing’s wrong?’
    ‘Jasper’s passable,’ I said. ‘Now listen. I need your help.’
    ‘What’s that rope for? And what the heck are you wearing?’
    I sighed impatiently. ‘All you have to do is watch.’
    *
    Twenty minutes later I was ready. No one had ever watched me before, only Pip – and that didn’t quite count. Jittery though I was, I trusted Ned to be straight with me. He saw all the acts go in and out of the ring, so he’d know a star turn if he saw one.
    The rope was now tied between two stout trees, about ten feet off the ground. I’d climbed up there myself while Ned watched from the ground. He thought it was all one big prank. Right up until I kicked off my clogs, tied back my hair and asked him for a leg-up onto the rope.
    ‘You ain’t getting up on that ?’ he said in amazement.
    ‘Of course I am, stupid. Now help me up.’
    ‘You’re stark raving.’
    ‘I will be in a minute if you don’t help me!’
    ‘It isn’t safe, Louie. You can’t just get up on the rope and . . . well . . . do it . It’s a proper skill. It takes years of practice!’
    ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I know.’
    I could’ve told him about my scrapbook. About Blondin, my hero. And that while he, Ned Bailey, had been snoring away in his cosy bed, I’d been practising every morning for as long as I could remember. But I wanted him to see it for himself.
    ‘Help me up,’ I said.
    ‘No.’
    I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘If you don’t help, I’ll tell everyone you’re sweet on Kitty Chipchase.’
    He glared at me. Then he put his hands around my waist.
    ‘Not like that,’ I said, wriggling out of his grasp. ‘Do it like I’m getting on a horse.’
    So he cupped his hand for my foot and on the count of three he heaved me upwards. I moved onto the rope till I lay flat across it. Slowly, I eased myself into a crouching position. Now I was a lot taller than Ned. The thought made me giggle. Or maybe it was just my nerves.
    ‘I’ve got a bird’s-eye view of the top of your head,’ I said.
    ‘And I’ve got a gentleman’s-eye view of your ankles, pretty miss,’ said Ned, putting on his posh ringmaster’s voice.
    ‘Stop it,’ I said, giggling again. ‘Now step back and watch.’
    ‘Shouldn’t I stay here? Just in case you fall?’
    ‘You’re a pea-brain, Ned. ’Course I won’t fall.’
    My mind went quiet. I stood up slowly, counted to five and focused straight ahead. The entire world had shrunk right down to this one length of rope. Nothing else existed. Under my feet the rope swayed slightly. It was part of me now. It had grown out of my heels and toes. We were the same thing, this rope and me. It made me feel wonderfully light.
    Arms out to the side, I took a step forward. Then another. Left foot, right foot, sliding forward along the rope. When I reached the other side I stopped. Turned right round to face the way I’d come. The only movement was in my ankles as they worked to keep me upright. I started walking again, this time making more of a show, flourishing my wrists, stopping to crouch down and stretch out each leg in turn. It felt good to be watched. It made me think harder about how I moved, what shapes and lines I made.
    When I reached the