The Magnificent Lizzie Brown and the Devil's Hound Read Free Page B

time for tea,” Fitzy snapped. “There’s work to do. We still have a show to put on, unless I’m much mistaken? Erin, Nora, come with me. Let’s talk rehearsals.”
    He turned and walked out. Ma Sullivan watched him go, then turned to her girls. “Well? You heard him!”
    Lizzie, Nora, and Erin ran out into the rain. Malachy was lagging behind his father, hobbling along on his stick. They quickly caught up.
    â€œDad’s in a foul mood,” Malachy murmured to Lizzie, too low for Fitzy to hear.
    â€œI noticed.”
    â€œYou don’t have to be psychic to see it, do you?” Malachy winced as his good foot sank into a muddy spot of ground. “He took a chance on this location, and it looks like it’s not going to pay off.”
    â€œBecause of the rain?” Lizzie asked.
    â€œWell, not just the rain.” Malachy glanced at the cemetery. Lizzie braced herself for more muttering about ghosts and demons, but to her relief Malachy was just as skeptical as she was. “You know how superstitious we circus folk can be — and there aren’t many tougher crowds to play to than a field full of dead people.”
    Fitzy headed into the main show tent. The sawdust ring was already in place, and the clowns were busy with rehearsal. Lizzie sat down to watch.
    â€œYou’re on next,” Fitzy told Erin and Nora. “Hari’s on his way with the horses.”
    It was always strange to see the clowns performing without costumes or makeup. Rice Pudding Pete crossed the floor with a wibbly-wobbly walk, holding up an empty tray. Lizzie knew it would have a bowl filled to the brim with rice pudding during the actual show. Most of which would go straight down his trousers.
    Fitzy folded his arms and looked on approvingly. Then he frowned. “Someone’s missing. Where’s JoJo?”
    â€œCan’t make rehearsal, boss,” Pete called, looking apologetic.
    â€œThat’s not good enough,” Fitzy snapped. “I need all hands on deck. Tell him to drag his lazy backside in here right away!”
    â€œHe can’t,” Pete said, more firmly now. “He’s sick. Barely been out of bed all day.”
    Fitzy let out an explosive sigh. “Sick, eh? That’s all I need. One more piece of bad luck. Malachy, next time I suggest setting up in Kensal Green, please be so good as to kick me.”
    â€œWill do, Pop,” Malachy said.
    â€œDid you get those new posters put up in the town, at least?” Fitzy asked.
    Malachy nodded. “I sent Dru and Collette out half an hour ago with a stack a foot high.”
    â€œGood lad.” Fitzy glanced around the ring. “Where has Hari gotten off to?”
    Lizzie had run into Dru, along with his snooty sister, Collette, on his way to stick up the posters. The posters were bigger than usual, with yellow, purple, and red ink blazing through the rain.
    â€œFitzy spent a fortune on these,” Dru had told her approvingly. “And look who’s at the center!” It was Erin and Nora, the Amazing Sullivan Twins, long red hair flying like banners, performing their equestrian ballet from the backs of two beautiful black horses.
    Fitzy had spent a fortune on Albert and Victoria too. A fortune he didn’t have. No wonder he’s worried , Lizzie had thought. If the rain kept the customers away, Fitzy wouldn’t just lose the profits, he’d have to surrender the horses. And without the horses the posters were useless, so he’d have wasted that money too. Everything seemed like it was hanging by a thread.
    At least the Sullivan boys had their own part of the equestrian act to perform. After Erin and Nora had amazed the crowds with their horseback ballet, the boys — Conor, Patrick, Sean, and Brendan — would perform their Wild West routine, firing off pistols and shooting arrows at straw dummies. Lizzie respected their talent, but everyone knew Nora and Erin